The Flower of Telmar
by crazyelf22
Summary: Jasmine, daughter of the ruthless tyrant Miraz, fears for her life and flees the castle. What she finds beyond its walls is completely unexpected. An adventure for sure, and maybe…a little love?
1. Fleeing the Castle

**The Flower of Telmar**

**Chapter One: Fleeing the Castle**

A high, blaring note filled the night sky and Jasmine glared out her window for the source of the noise. When she detected that it was coming from one of the soldiers atop a turret of the castle, her mouth went slack, and then she saw fireworks lighting up the night sky.

Some would say this was undoubtedly a cause for celebration, but she knew otherwise.

She stumbled from her window as quickly as she was able to and flung the doors of her wardrobe open. Her fingers fumbled anxiously as she slipped into a dark blue traveling dress (she hoped that the dark color would not attract attention in the night) and then clasped a black cloak over herself.

Another quick gaze out the window told her that she would be much too late if she did not leave right away. Not wasting any time, she rushed out of her room and stole through the castle as quietly as she could, fortunately not meeting anyone along the way. After what felt like ages, she reached the stables through an obscure castle door and hastened to be on her way.

The familiar reigns she took were those of her favorite mare, Camille. She was an absolutely gorgeous horse; her coat was a shiny dark mahogany and her mane was long and a glistening black color, reminding Jasmine very much of her own hair. After she'd finished saddling the mare up in preparation for departure, something in the corner of the stables had caught her eye. She walked over and saw that it was a bow, and a small quiver of arrows that lay beside it.

_What luck_, she thought. She picked them up and found that the bow wasn't in perfect condition, nor was it the most skillfully crafted she'd seen in her lifetime, and the quiver was not full in the least, but they were still better than nothing. She slung them both onto her shoulder, mounted Camille, and steered her out of the stables before they sped off at a full gallop.

It wasn't until she was nearly to the edge of the forest before an uproar of a noise caused her to jerk back the reigns. Camille reared into the air once before padding back onto the ground and Jasmine turned her head to see that there was another figure astride a horse as well, coming from the castle that she'd just fled. Eyes wide as dinner plates, she watched the stranger, to see if they were going to pursue her. But, much to her surprise, they didn't. The figure went straight forward, some fifty yards or so from her, and right into the forest.

That was when she finally noticed what was behind them. A group of guards, on horseback, were advancing closer and closer towards the forest, and Jasmine, by the second.

Immediately, she pulled Camille's reigns again and they were whipping past the trees at such a speed that Jasmine felt the mare could almost sense the anxiety and fear that was eating at her insides.

She couldn't hear the sound of hooves pounding the ground behind her like she knew she normally would, having been around horses for most of her life. That must mean that the soldiers weren't following her at all. She wasn't quite sure whether to feel relieved or even more worried by this revelation. She only urged Camille onwards, unwilling to take any chances of being caught and taken back to the castle.

---

The sound of his pursuers rushed through his ears, a tone of warning and incentive. He inwardly cursed and urged his horse on even faster than before--he'd thought he'd lost them at the river, but was apparently wrong.

Caspian reeled his brunette head back to see how far they were from him, and regretted this almost at once. Before he could pick out the soldiers in the darkness, the side of his head collided with something solid and hard and his entire body fell from the horse's back. However, his foot caught onto the saddle and he was mercilessly dragged by the ignorant steed.

_This is not my day_, he thought grimly. He fidgeted his foot as much as he could while being dragged through the forest floors and finally, it was released from the hold of the saddle.

But his horse continued to run, unaware that it's rider had fallen behind, leaving him without any form of transportation besides his own two legs. He heaved his torso up and looked around him. He could see nothing, but the unwelcome sound of hooves and horses in the distance met his ears again. Ignoring the pain in his temple from hitting it upon the low tree branch, he quickly got up and began to run. His hand automatically reached towards his hip, and he was reassured when he found that his sword and the pouch given to him by his professor were still on his person. But only slightly. His relief was soon vanquished as his thoughts gave way to the soldiers and predicament at hand. He began to run faster.

While quite unable to see much in the dark, and not paying any particular attention to his direction, his foot caught onto a stone protruding from the ground and he stumbled forward, falling flat on his stomach. But this time, he didn't get up. His body ached with the pain that had come from falling from his horse and then being forcibly dragged along by that same horse. But a noise caught his senses and he opened his eyes and immediately sat up, looking around wearily. Thankfully, the few rays from the moon that lit the sky shone through a patch in between the trees above and littered the forest around him in a dim light. He looked ahead of him and what he saw made him question his sanity. Perhaps that branch had done more damage than he'd thought.

Just ahead of him, stood a dwarf. He was certain it was a dwarf. It was a very short man with a long reddish beard. But there had to be some mistake. While Caspian was quite sure that this was a dwarf, he couldn't help but think, _But Narnians, they're extinct...aren't they?_

However he had no more than a short moment to comprehend this before the thunderous volume of his chasers filled the air and he turned back the way he'd come just in time to see the horses running at incredible speed towards him. He looked back towards the dwarf and saw that another had joined him. His dark eyes grazed over this one and saw that he had a long, dark gray beard and piercing eyes. He didn't know what to think of this and said nothing to the two. He noticed the Red-bearded Dwarf take a glance around Caspian and clearly saw the soldiers -- Caspian could see that much in his eyes.

"Take care of him," the dwarf said gruffly, nodding his head towards Caspian while keeping his eyes trained on the oncoming soldiers. He produced a sword from his side and swung it about in his hand before bounding off to meet the soldiers. For a single moment, Caspian feared for the creature and almost called him back, but he wasn't sure whether the two were friend or foe, yet.

He turned his attention back to the Black-bearded Dwarf and cast a wary glance over him, waiting for him to 'take care of him.' The dwarf did indeed advance upon Caspian, who himself was a little caught off guard by the speed with which the dwarf approached -- not hesitant in the least. In his folly, the pouch around his waist fell to the ground, and out rolled a white horn-like object. Caspian's eyes traveled down to it for the briefest moment before looking back up to meet the dwarf's -- who had stopped at this point and stared at the horn too.

_Well, I'd call this an emergency_, Caspian thought. And without another thought, he collapsed onto his knees, lifted the horn to his lips, and blew.

---

Panting, Jasmine leaned heavily against the tree that she'd taken for shelter over the night. She hadn't heard nor seen any trace of followers for the past hour (if not more) and the speed and vigor of their departure left Camille extremely exhausted. She'd felt that the mare should get a well-deserved break.

For the first time since she'd left the castle--or rather, since she'd started to _prepare_ to leave--she was considering what would happen to her. Surely, she could not go back. Of course she couldn't, that would undermine the entire purpose of her setting out in the first place. But this left her with no where to go. Thankfully, along her way to the stables, she'd stolen into the kitchens and quickly grabbed a loaf of bread and a flagon of water, so at least she knew that she was unlikely to die of starvation. However, she couldn't help but consider that her actions were utterly foolish. Though she would have likely lost her life had she stayed, now she felt that her predicament was closing in on her with fear, worry, and doubt. She didn't want to consider the idea of how long she would last out here, all alone.

A long, low tune rose through the air and punctured through her thoughts. She knew at once that it wasn't the same horn that had prompted her to run from the castle; it was a relieving tune, one that drove all of the worries from her mind and cast a blanket of peace over her. For the first time in years, she felt a feeling of hope rise in her.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm typically not very fond of movie-verse stories, but I saw the Prince Caspian movie and thought that Edmund should have had a bigger part in it, so I decided to write this up. Hope you enjoy it :D


	2. Answering the Call

**Chapter Two: Answering the Call**

How did he end up the one to buy their tickets? Oh, yes, of course...Susan was off reading, Lucy was exchanging goodbyes with the friends that she would be leaving behind during the school term, and Peter was...well, Peter was Peter. He wasn't exactly good company to be around these days; he had become quite grouchy and was likely to lash out at the slightest thing.

So, of course Edmund was taking on more responsibility than he was used to lately. Ever since the four Pevensie children had come back through the wardrobe from their last experience in the magical world of Narnia, everyone around him had seen a change in him. He'd become an absolute gentleman; he now used good manners, thought before he spoke, and when he _did_ speak, it was usually with an air of wizened experience. Of course this was all because of Narnia. But no one else knew that besides his siblings -- the others put it off as him finally growing up and taking control over his words and actions.

He sighed in impatience and leaned his head to the right to look around the person in front of him. _What was taking so long?_

Finally. The woman in front of Edmund collected her change and tickets and strolled out of the line. He hurried forward and took the heap of shillings given to him by Susan out of his pocket.

"Four tickets to Paddington train station please," he said to her, laying the money down on the counter.

"Right, just a mo', sir." She scooped up the handful of coins and returned her hand through the window, holding out four thick pieces of paper.

"Thank you very much," he muttered, taking the tickets. He nodded his head to her and then turned to pursue an attempt to find at least _one_ of his siblings.

But, just at that moment, the chants of an uproarious crowd met his ears and he looked around him, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. And then he realized that he most likely _had_ found one of them._ Not again..._

Inwardly groaning with displeasure, he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder more, carefully tucked the tickets away in one of its compartments, and then hurried down the train tunnel.

Before he knew it, he'd stumbled upon the source of the noise. Up ahead of him, a large crowd of schoolboys and girls had accumulated, pushing around one another in effort to get a better look at something that was happening in the middle. Edmund distinctly caught them all cheering the words, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

He ran forward and shoved people out of his way until he reached a point at which he could see exactly what was going on.

In the very middle of the crowd -- which had gathered on both sides of the spectacle -- were several boys that looked to be a few years older than Edmund. He immediately recognized his older brother, Peter, to be among them. His arms were being held behind his back and his gut was being brutally and incessantly punched by one of the larger boys of the group. Another was taking kicks at Peter's shins and letting out a cruel laugh each time he groaned in pain.

Without another thought, Edmund went forward at once, fighting his way through the crowd. He distinctly saw a reddish-auburn braid and flash of dark brown hair as he went, but did not stop. Lucy's cry of, "No -- Edmund!" would not hold him back either. He heartily agreed with their disliking of violence, but would not stand by and watch while his brother was being beaten to a pulp. And at such an unfair advantage too.

After much pushing and shoving, Edmund finally broke free of the seemingly endless crowd and tackled the kicking boy to the ground. The boy was much bigger than him, but Edmund had the advantage. This was child's play compared to all of the battles he'd fought in Narnia. He trapped the boy's arms under his body, ultimately disarming him from attacking Edmund at all. His eyes looked over to see how Peter was faring, now that the fight was nearly even, but a shrill whistle broke through the crowd and the multitude of kids scattered at once. When the crowd had dispersed enough, Edmund saw two officers running towards the fight. One seized the boy that held Peter's arms, while the other grasped Peter and they pulled them apart. Edmund stood, releasing the boy that he had trapped to the ground.

"Act your age!" the officer snarled, relinquishing his hold on Peter with a jerk of his hand. His brother's face was solemn as he walked over towards the bench where Ed spotted Susan and Lucy sitting. Both wore identical anxious and scolding expressions, though Lucy looked more worried than anything else. Ed picked up his bag -- which he'd dropped in his pursuit of tackling the boy -- and trudged over towards them, collapsing in the seat to Lucy's right.

"You're welcome," he told Peter. Though he would have helped his brother anyways, it was always nice to be appreciated. But did he ever get that appreciation from Peter? No.

"I had it sorted," he replied gruffly. See?

_Yeah, if you call getting your arse kicked having it sorted..._

"Are you both all right?" Lucy questioned almost instantly.

"Just peachy," Edmund muttered, the sarcasm evident in his moody expression.

"What was it this time?" Susan asked wearily, eyeing Peter with a stern look as he paced in front of them all.

"He bumped me," he replied simply.

"So you hit him?" Lucy asked in disbelief. Her child-like face was etched with disappointment.

"No," Peter said, stopping to look at them. "He bumped me, and then his friends tried to make me apologize." He began to pace again. "That's when I hit him."

"Oh really," Susan said, "Is it that hard just to walk away?"

"I shouldn't have to!" Peter exclaimed, pinning her with a gaze of reproach. "I mean, don't you ever get tired of being treated like a kid?"

Edmund scoffed at this remark. "Uh, we _are_ kids," he said, unable to restrain himself from pointing out the obvious.

"Well I wasn't always."

Edmund exchanged worried glances with Susan and Lucy. They all had had enough experience with their older brother to know immediately what he was talking about.

"It's been a year," he continued when no one spoke, looking up at them all. "How long does he expect us to wait?"

"I think it's time to accept that we live _here_," Susan said desperately. "There's no use in pretending any different." She looked around wearily, and then stopped when she spotted a crowd of kids further down the tunnel. "Oh no..." she muttered. She turned towards Lucy quickly. "Pretend you're talking to me," she pleaded in a low voice.

"We _are_ talking to you," Edmund muttered. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that clearly told him to cut it with the sarcasm.

But, before she could say anything, Lucy jumped from the bench unexpectedly and glared at it. "Ow!" she exclaimed.

"Wha -- Ow!" Edmund leapt up as well, as he felt a pinching sensation on his back.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked, but it wasn't even a moment later that she and Peter both had jumped from their places as well, emitting their own yelps of pain. Susan looked at the bench curiously. "Whatever do you think that was?"

A soft breeze filled the air, but it felt mystical, as there was usually no wind in this tunnel. Lucy looked around her and beamed at the others. "It feels like _magic_!"

"Quick," Susan said, taking on her maternal side, "Everybody hold hands." She grasped Lucy's, who took Peter's, and his older brother took Edmund's hand.

"I'm not holding your hand!" Edmund exclaimed. But his voice was lost amidst the growing wind. Now stray papers and hangings from the stonewalls flew all about them and whipped Edmund's school hat from his head, and Susan's air flew all about them. But none of the other children seemed to have noticed the difference in the air. It _must_ have been magic.

All around the four, the train station collapsed and, after a whirlwind of color, they were all standing in an empty tunnel-like cave. However, instead of the stone ground, there was sand beneath their feet, and a bright light could be seen at the opposite end.

Their hands all dropped to their sides again and they slowly made their way to the opening of the cave. Before them was an incredibly beautiful beach. The sand sloped in gentle curves along the ground and the clear blue ocean lapped at the edges, creating a peaceful sound to listen to. Susan and Lucy looked at one another, erupting in giggles and both girls ran along the beach, stripping off their shoes and socks as they went. Not to be left out, Peter and Edmund began to run after them, leaving their blazers, shoes, and socks to splay across the ground, as well as Edmund's bag, all utterly abandoned.

Laughter and giggles stole through the air quite frequently as the four children sloshed about in the water, occasionally splashing at each other.

However, when a glint of sunlight caught Edmund's eye and temporarily blinded him, he turned and saw a cliff before them. And, at the top of the cliff were the remnants of a castle, or so it appeared.

"Ed? What's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Well, where do you suppose we are?" Edmund asked, looking about them.

"Where do you think?" Peter looked upon his brother excitedly, as though the answer was quite obvious.

"It's just, I don't remember any ruins in Narnia," he replied, turning his gaze back over to the top of the cliff pointedly. The others followed his gaze and saw it as well.

"Perhaps the foundation weakened and it collapsed," Susan suggested, always looking to the logical side first.

"Maybe..." Edmund muttered, leading the way as the four trudged back onto the sand. Edmund retrieved his bag and followed the others as they trekked across the warm sand towards the cliffs.

"How do you suppose we get up there?" Lucy asked anxiously, tilting her chin all the way to peer towards the top.

"Come on," Peter said, "We'll climb."

---

After a good half hour or so, the four had finally found a steep path leading towards the top and had climbed until they finally reached the top.

"What do you suppose this was?" Peter asked, as he and Edmund took one route towards the damage that led them away from their sisters.

"It looks to be the remains of some sort of cathedral or something," Edmund replied, raking his eyes up and down the crumbling stone structures. The walked further along the path and came to the side of a large building. Half of the wall was down, crumbled at the base, and vines and other plant life had taken root all around it.

"It looks...ancient," Peter observed.

"It does," Edmund agreed, "But something doesn't seem right. It doesn't really look like this happened of natural causes, does it?"

"No, I must admit it doesn't," Peter replied.

"I think we did..." Susan's voice floated towards the two, and their curiousity pressed them to walk towards the direction it had come from.

"What's that?" Edmund asked, catching sight of something small and dark in her hands. A few more strides towards them brought him close enough to recognize it. "Hey, that's from my chess set!"

"Which chess set?" Peter asked.

"Well I didn't exactly have a solid gold chess set in Finchley, would I?" Edmund said, taking the piece from Susan and wiping the dirt off of it to reveal a somewhat rusted over gold.

"No, but --"

However, Lucy's gasp of astonishment cut across Peter's retort. "It can't be," she said quietly, as though speaking to herself. Her face was pulled over in a dream-like state and she meandered from their group until she reached a stone floor that stood apart from the rest of the building.

"What is it Lu?" Peter asked, following her.

"Don't you see?" she asked excitedly. She ran over to him and took his arm before pulling him onto the stone and placing him carefully in a very specific spot. "Imagine walls -- and columns, there!" she said, pointing as she directed him. She repeated this procedure with Susan and Edmund as well, and then went over to stand by Susan at the far right.

Casting a glance over the scene before him, Edmund began to peice it together, recognizing certain things, but it was Peter that spoke his thoughts first.

"Cair Paravel..."

---

"This is awful," Lucy murmured as she looked around the ruins with saddened eyes. "Who would do this?"

"I don't know Lu," Peter said gently, "Let's have a look around." The others silently agreed and followed as he started to pace towards the parts of the remains that looked like they were the most intact of the lot. Edmund spied something black amidst all of the gray of the remains and the parched brown of the grass and strayed away from the others to take a closer look. He knelt down beside it and began to inspect. Just as he'd thought, a catapult.

"Hey guys," he called, his eyes still on it, "You'd better come take a look at this..."

"What is it, Ed?" Susan asked as the others strolled towards him.

He looked up to their faces, "Catapults. Guys, this didn't just _happen_...Cair Paravel was attacked."

"Awful..." Lucy repeated with a shake of her head.

"Come on," Peter said, "I spotted a door that we might be able to get through. Perhaps there's something that can tell us more about what happened."

"Where?" Edmund asked, standing again. Peter nodded his head towards a large part of the ruins that looked the most preserved and then began to lead the others towards it.

"It's blocked," Susan dismissively when they reached it. Indeed, a large fallen tree trunk had fell onto its side and obstructed them from getting through the door.

Edmund looked over it and then turned to Peter. "It can't be _that_ heavy. I'm sure we could push it out of the way."

"I think so," Peter agreed. Edmund dropped his bag to his feet again and pushed up his sleeves before he and Peter both began to push against the trunk. He felt it slowly giving way and soon he and Peter had pushed it back enough to edge the stone doorway open.

Peter attempted the doorknob, but of course, it was so old it fell from the door the moment he touched it. He then heaved himself against the door until the hinges finally broke away and the door slid open easily, hanging precariously at the top of a long set of stairs that led into a dark abyss. No one spoke when the door was opened -- it seemed no one wanted to see what they'd find down there. Edmund knew no one could have been there for years, but he was still overcome with a nervous feeling that gave him slight goosebumps. He peered at Peter curiously as he took the bottom part of his shirt and began to rip a small peice off of it, before placing it around a stick. He looked up to Edmund.

"I don't suppose you have any matches on you, do you?"

"Well, no," Edmund replied, opening his flap and peering inside. His fingers groped around for a moment before closing around the object he was searching and pulling it out. "Would this help?" he asked, holding the flashlight up.

Peter's face broke into a laughing grin. "You might have mentioned that a bit sooner!"

Edmund chuckled and merely switched the light on before stepping through the doorway and proceeding down the stairs.

"Where do you think it leads?" Lucy asked from behind him.

"I'm not sure," he said, pointing the light as far as it would go, but not seeing much. "We'll find out soon enough."

And they did. Edmund and his beam of light finally reached the end of the stairs and he cast it all around him, before spotting that they were still a story above their destination. They were on a ridge of sorts that only led to another shorter staircase. He pointed his light over the ridge to see below them. And he saw...

He saw _them_.

Not literally of course, but he saw stone replicas of themselves as the Kings and Queens of Narnia. And, before those statues, were beautiful chests covered in gold. Each obvious for the person who's statue stood behind it.

He wasted no time before shuffling down the steps with earnest and crossing over to his own chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the others approach theirs as well. He reached high above him and set his flashlight onto a shelf above their heads so that the light would cast itself over the entire room. He peered up at the portrayal of himself in an older, stone form. He could see the man that he had once been. A Just King of Narnia that had always done the best for his people. Except once. Once he had done the very worst for his people. But he would never do it again.

Slowly, as a very serious nature had taken over him, he placed his fingers into the crease of the trunk and lifted it's top. The contents had all accumulated so much dust in the years; at first it was hard to make them out at all. But he brushed it off and found, at the very top, his crown. The very crown that Tumnus had coronated him with after their defeat of the White Witch. He picked it up and set it aside and directly under it lay his sword. He took it out and pulled it from its sheath, in awe of the beautiful glittering light crystals it made. The sword had been a gift from a community of dwarves. They had thought highly of him as Edmund the Wandbreaker and had wanted to thank him for ending the reign of terror that the Witch had brought to Narnia. As if he actually deserved any of it.

Nonetheless, it was a very beautiful sword and he took it from the trunk, fully intent on bringing it along with them wherever they journeyed to next.

"As Aslan bares his teeth, Winter meets it's death." Peter's voice yanked Edmund from his pensive state and he looked over to see his younger brother raising his sword and Susan and Lucy were also both looking upon him.

"And when he shakes his mane, we will have spring again." Everyone looked to Lucy now and saw that she was very near tears if she wasn't crying already. "Everyone we'd met," she said quietly, "The beavers...Mr. Tumnus...they're all gone..."

She looked over to Peter, almost expectant. She'd always looked up to him to fix things, or Edmund. Edmund and Susan also turned to Peter. He was finally in his comfort zone again. The zone of a king.

"I think we need to figure out what's going on," he said.


	3. Recollections and Realizations

**Chapter Three: Recollections and Realizations**

Caspian's dark eyes opened slowly. And once his vision went from a blur of colors to a clear sight, he noticed an earthen ceiling above him. The roots dangling from the brown soil and the woodsy smell of the room proved his suspicions true. He was inside…somewhere in the forest, he knew this for sure. But how had he gotten there?

He sat up, with pain and difficulty. His body still ached from the dragging of the night before. At least, he _thought_ it was the night before. He couldn't have any idea how much time had passed. It could have been weeks, days, or maybe just a few short hours…and he'd never had known the difference.

Why?

Ignoring the slight pain that came with any physical activity, he swung his legs over the side of the thing that he'd been lying upon (he found that it was a low cot, topped with a few ragged blankets). The pounding in his temple and deafening rush in his ears made it nearly impossible for him to concentrate. But he had to. He had to remember.

And he did. The first thing he remembered was being woken in the dead of night, by his professor…

_"My Prince." The anxious voice of his professor took him out of his sleep, and he furrowed his brows. _

_"What is it?"_

_"Your aunt has given birth..." he said in almost a whisper. He leaned closer to Caspian until he could see the elder man's eyes widen in a feeling that could only be described one way. Fear. _

_"To a son," he finished in a hushed tone. _

_For a moment, Caspian could only stare at the man, not fully processing what he'd just heard. _

_"We must hurry!" the professor exclaimed. By now, Caspian understood what was happening and he made no hesitation getting to his feet. Thuds of footsteps littered into the room from the hall and both looked to the closed door at the exact same moment. Caspian was sure they were thinking the same thing. Soldiers. _

_"Hurry!" he repeated. He took Caspian's arm and steered him to the far side of the room -- towards the wardrobe. And a curious wardrobe it was. Most of them only held clothing and possibly few choice possessions of the owner. But this particular wardrobe, it held a secret. A secret only the professor and Caspian were aware of. Caspian always suspected that, one day, something like this would happen. And he had been right. _

_The two hastened through the wardrobe and into the secret tunnel as fast as they could manage, often stumbling along the way. There was no light to see them through. At the end -- and Caspian knew when they'd reached it, for his professor's soft footsteps had stopped -- he could see a trickle of dim light in between stones that created the walls of the passage. Both men heaved against it (Caspian exerting more strength, not wishing to burden his aging professor more than he should) and it slowly gave way, admitting more shadowing light into the tunnel. As soon as there was a space wide enough for them to pass through, they did, not pausing at all to look behind them. _

_They had entered into the stables now, which the moonlight poured a good deal of light upon. Caspian looked around and before his eyes landed on his horse, he saw an empty stall. A stall that should not have been empty. _

_"Professor?" he asked, shaking with a slight tremor though the night was unseasonably warm. "Where is she -- where is Jasmine?!" _

_"Do not worry, my prince," he said. "She will be safe." _

_Caspian couldn't bare the old man's indifference towards the situation. He walked closer to him, so that the professor had to lift his chin to look him in the eye. _

_"You know they will kill her." _

_"Yes." _

_"Where is she?" he asked again. He would not -- _could_ not -- leave without her. Not after all they'd been through together. _

_"She has gone." _

_"Gone where?!" _

_"To the forest, my prince," the professor said. "Do not worry. She will be safe." _

_Caspian wanted so much to believe him, but still felt a twinge of doubt within himself. He felt cold and empty as he prepared his horse, Theron. Finally, he turned to his professor to share their last words before his departure. He thought, for a moment, if he would ever see the man again. He decided he didn't want their last moments together to be in anger. _

_"I am sorry," he said bashfully. _

_"I understand," the man replied, "I know you care about her."_

_"I do."_

_"Do not worry, my prince, she will be quite safe. I'm certain."_

_"How?" Caspian asked, his voice growing more anxious despite his attempts to calm himself. "How can you know?" _

_The professor looked at him for a few moments. Only a few moments, but it felt like much longer than that to Caspian. The professor lowered his eyes from his charge and took a small leather pouch from the inside of his robes and held it up, meeting Caspian's eyes again._

_"What is this?" he asked, when the older man said nothing. He knew just from the look in his professor's eyes that it was important. Very important. _

_"You will know, in due time," the man replied. He pushed the pouch into Caspian's hands and led him over to Theron, as the horse stood awaiting departure. He watched Caspian climb astride his horse before he continued. He looked him right in the eye again before he spoke. "Use it...in the case of a dire emergency." _

_Caspian's thoughts strayed back towards the pouch, but he did not reach for the strings to open it. _

_"Everything you know…is about to change…" _

…But what did it all mean?

Caspian finally remembered. He remembered leaving. He remembered the soldiers...following him. And then the branch. He had fallen. The last thing he remembered, was a horn. He now knew that this was the object so dear. But why? He had yet to see anything good come of it. And how had he gotten here? _Where was here_? Ah, he finally remembered more. The very last thing he remembered. The Black-bearded dwarf, coming closer and closer to him until all was black.

He knew that now he must have been in the home of the dwarf, but why? And, again, what did all of this mean? The horn…and the strange warning from his professor; they both seemed linked, connected. True, everything he had known _had _changed. He never believed that the Narnians would still exist, but now he considered the idea. He didn't know what to think anymore.

But he did know one thing. And that was that Jasmine—Jasmine, the girl that he'd gotten so close to over the years—was in danger. Just as grave a danger as he was in. He had to find her, and quickly.

He resolved that he would get nothing done until he found out who had captured him, why, and how he could escape. He stole across the small bedroom that he was in and, too soon, he heard voices.

"We can't kill him now Nikabrik! I've just made soup for the boy…"

"Trufflehunter, he is a _Telmarine_. He's seen us! You know as good as I what will happen if they get wind that we are still at large!"

"But he had the horn! He can't be all that bad."

A scoffing grunt came from one side of the room and then the reply: "Another wrong they've committed against us."

"Nikabrik, you are _not_ to harm him!"

By now, Caspian was wary and slightly worried. He'd taken a quick peek and saw one of the speakers -- the Black-bearded Dwarf -- and he seemed to have a very strong urge to bring about Caspian's death. _Why_? So many questions…so many _unanswered_ questions.

He decided that he was not going to stick around to find out. He quickly ran from his spot behind the wall, making for the exit he'd spotted behind the dwarf. But, as predicted, it wasn't that easy. The dwarf sprang from his chair instantly and extracted a sword, pointing it to Caspian in a challenging manner. The man looked around him and noticed a steel poker lying against a fireplace. He grasped it in his hand and, for good measure, slid the tip of it into the fire until it glowed with loose sparks coating it. He raised it to the dwarf's sword just as he struck. The bad news was that even Caspian had to admit that a fire place poker stood no chance against a Dwarf-made sword. None at all. He watched as the dwarf's whacks of the blade belittled his own weapon, bit by bit.

"Nikabrik!" Caspian finally turned his attention to the other speaker. The creature—which was an abnormally large badger—bumbled along across the room to stand in front of the dwarf, raising a scolding finger. "You'd best not do anything more to him—or do I have to sit on your head again?!"

Caspian relented a short laugh at this.

"Think it's funny do you?" the dwarf—whom he'd realized was called Nikabrik—snapped at him. "I'd like to see it happen to _you_...You wouldn't be laughing much then, boy..."

Caspian stopped laughing, but did not answer him. He only peered at the two creatures curiously. "What are you?" he asked, directing his question more towards the badger.

"Funny," Trufflehunter murmured, turning his back on Caspian and the dwarf as he went back towards the area that looked like the kitchen. "You'd think more people would recognize a badger when they saw one..."

"No, no," Caspian said hastily. "You're -- you're Narnians, aren't you?"

"Not too bright, is he?" Nikabrik scoffed, sending a taunting grimace Caspian's way.

"So you _are _Narnians," Caspian concluded, ignoring the comment.

"Indeed," Trufflehunter replied.

"I don't understand..." Caspian said, "You're supposed to be extinct."

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you," Nikabrik replied sarcastically.

But something still wasn't clear...

"Why did you help me?" Caspian asked after a few moments.

"You'd be dead if it had been up to me," Nikabrik said, "I was all for slitting your throat and leaving you for the dogs, but Trufflehunter wouldn't have it."

Trufflehunter sighed and turned to look at Caspian, "Do you know...what this is?" He crossed over the short room and picked something white up from the wooden table in the middle.

The horn.

"No," he replied, in all honesty.

"_This_," Trufflehunter said, "Is Queen Susan's horn."

Caspian blinked a few times, letting this process into his brain. "Queen Susan? A Queen of Old?" he questioned.

"Yes," Trufflehunter replied. He looked down at the horn now before continuing, "It has been foretold that the horn would be blown by a Son of Adam and it would call the Kings and Queens of Old back to our world. And both forces would join together to free us from our long winded age of persecution and hiding ."

"I...I don't understand," Caspian replied quietly. "Are you...do you think...is that -- referring to _me_?"

"Yes, I believe so," Trufflehunter replied with a slight nod, though his soft dark eyes never left Caspian's.

He couldn't be sure how he felt. A savior of nations? Surely not. He'd left a girl -- a girl that he cared deeply for -- to fend for herself at the threat of a fate that he neither knew at the present time nor wanted to consider at this point.

He was no hero.


	4. What They Left Behind

**Chapter Four: What They Left Behind **

The four had descended down the mountain once more, this time on the opposite side than they climbed up on. It looked much the same as the other side: a long, sandy beach that led to the ocean which stretched as far as they eye could travel. On any other day, they'd have made a point to stop and enjoy the beauty that the scenery had to offer, but not this day.

Edmund was hopeful that they might find some hint to why they had come back (not that they weren't all thrilled, but somehow the fact that Cair Paravel was in ruins gave them the impression that it wasn't just a leisurely visit) and what had happened to their once-great land of Narnia.

Not long did it take for him to find exactly what he was looking for, however.

"What is that?" Lucy asked, pointing ahead of them.

"I think a boat, maybe?" Peter suggested, squinting his eyes in the sun.

Edmund put a hand over his eyes to see better and peered towards the same direction that Lucy and Peter were looking. "It _is_ a boat," he said, "And two men aboard. Wait, a third as well." Edmund dropped his hand. "By the Lion's Mane, it's a dwarf! And if I'm seeing this correctly, I think those men are attempting to drown him!" Indeed, he had seen a small man -- too small to truly be a man, he recognized it immediately as a dwarf -- gagged and tied up, held between the two men who looked like they were about to throw him overboard.

"A dwarf," Susan repeated, looking at each of her siblings in turn. Edmund knew exactly what she meant. The dwarves had fought alongside the White Witch, Jadis, upon their last excursion to Narnia. How could they know which party on the boat was a friend, and which was foe?

"Still a Narnian," Peter said quietly. "We can't abandon our people. His time can't have been during the Witch's reign."

"You can never judge a person upon their actions, anyways," Lucy said. Edmund caught her slip a quick glance in his direction.

"She's right," he said. "Besides, we'll never know what happened to Narnia if we don't try to help him." The others agreed and they all sprinted across the beach to the banks of the waters that the boat was treading.

Susan drew her arrow, slung it onto her bow and aimed towards the soldiers. "Drop him!" she called.

And that's exactly what they did. The men dropped him. Right into the waters.

Susan wasted no time in striking both men with her arrows. They fell to the floor of the boat and did not get back up.

Meanwhile, Edmund watched as Peter ran headlong into the waters and dove in. Edmund followed -- if they were to find anything else that would give hint of the destruction that had come across Cair Paravel, they would need to cross water. And using a boat was _a lot_ easier than swimming an entire length. He dove in himself and swam to the boat as quick as his muscles would take him. Luckily it bore a long rope, to be tied up at a harbor, Edmund presumed. He took the rope in both of his hands and swam back. By the time his feet met land again -- albeit, he was still wading in the shallower water to the shore -- he was completely exhausted. But proud of himself for finally accomplishing something useful. And, again, did he get any thanks from Peter? Any 'Well done, Ed'? No.

He dragged the boat far enough up shore to ensure that it would not float away and rejoined the others.

"...They were doing just find drowning me without your help!" The dwarf pointed an angry, stubby finger at Susan as he slipped off his severed ropes.

"Why were they trying to kill you anyways?" Lucy asked. _Maybe this dwarf _is_ in league with the dark forces of Narnia_, Edmund thought. That could at least explain the attempted murder.

"They're Telmarines," the dwarf grunted, throwing the remains of the ropes to the ground. He looked back up to the four with a look that clearly said he hated these people with all of his being. "It's what they do."

"Telmarines?" Edmund questioned. In all of his years in Narnia, he'd never heard of them before.

The dwarf scoffed at him. "Where've you been the last few hundred years?"

"It's a bit of a long story," Lucy mumbled. A bit?

Edmund saw something in the dwarf's eyes change as he looked over you all. Perhaps he was finally understanding.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me..." he said wearily, "_You're_ it? You're the Kings and Queens of Old?" How many times had they gotten that reaction before? It was beginning to get on Edmund's nerves.

Peter held out a hand. "High King Peter," he said, "The Magnificent." Oh yes, very kingly, very _humble_.

"You probably could have left off that last bit," Susan said with a small grin.

"Probably," the dwarf agreed with a chuckle. His scarred face split into the first smile Edmund had seen, but it did not last. He frowned again and looked at them all. "How do I know you're really the Kings and Queens of Old?"

Peter held out a sword. "See for yourself."

The dwarf eyed it before looking back up at Peter. "You don't want to be doing that..." he said.

"Not me," Peter replied. He nodded his head towards the left, where Edmund happened to be standing. "Him."

Edmund, fight a dwarf? Well this wasn't going to take long...

The dwarf picked up Peter's offered sword with difficulty. It weighed down in his hands and he could barely lift it. Edmund grinned at the others. This was going to be a piece of cake.

And then the dwarf swung with a power that Edmund hadn't expected. It was only by sheer skill that he'd brought his own blade to meet it before it struck his flesh.

So much for being easy.

But the dwarf continued. He was much better than Edmund had anticipated. He even knocked him a good one on his cheek, but the pain wasn't something he'd felt before. He'd been through plenty of battles and wars in his Narnian days and wasn't fazed by a mere scratch. He returned the dwarf's zeal with his own and fought back with every muscle in his body. Had he not been a Knight of Narnia, he was sure he would have given up by now for the simple fact that his muscles already ached from his retrieving of the boat. But he did it. With a last mighty swing, the dwarf's sword -- or, more accurately, Peter's -- fell to the ground behind Edmund's opponent and the dwarf just leaned against the sand, looking up at him in clear disbelief.

"Maybe that horn worked after all..." he said softly, gazing up at them all.

Edmund's brow furrowed and he exchanged glances with the others. They were all thinking the same thing. Susan's horn? The horn that they hadn't been able to locate at the Cair?

Susan was the first to speak the thing that Edmund was sure was on all of their minds. "What horn?"

---

"Start with the Telmarines," Edmund said, "Tell us everything you can that they have done in our absence."

The dwarf -- who'd given his name as Trumpkin -- shifted in his seat aboard the boat as he faced Edmund and Susan. "Yes, your Majesty. The Telmarines invaded Narnia, oh, several hundred years ago. I'm not exact on the time frame."

"That's all right," Lucy cut in with an encouraging smile.

Trumpkin nodded his head to her, "Yes. Well, as you've probably noticed, their invasion deeply affected our land. All of the remaining Narnians -- I say remaining because a great number were slaughtered by Telmarine soldiers -- were forced to hide in the deepest parts of the wood lest they join the dead."

Lucy gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. "That's _horrid_."

"That explains why we haven't run into any other Narnians," Edmund muttered to Susan. He had been beginning to wonder where they'd all gone.

"Yes," she agreed with a nod. "Do know happen to know where they are?" she asked Trumpkin.

"I know that a rather large population resided in the Shuddering Woods," he said, "It is, in fact, where I live myself."

"Did you hear that, Peter?" Edmund leaned around to peer over at Peter, who sat on the opposite end, rowing the boat.

"Yes," his elder brother replied, "I'll get us to a point where we can find it on foot."

Edmund nodded and sat back into this seat. "And what of this Telmarine you mentioned earlier? You said one had found you and mentioned that he had had Susan's horn and blew it."

"Yes," Trumpkin said. "I believe he is a Prince of the Telmarines, Prince Caspian X."

"Is he a danger?" Edmund asked.

"Not that I know of," Trumpkin said, "I'd only seen him for a brief time before I was captured by the Telmarine soldiers."

Edmund cursed under his breath. "They know where you are then."

"Yes."

"Do not worry," Edmund said, his eyes flashing in anger for these cruel people and determination for his country. "We will help you, I promise."

---

"Best be on your toes," Trufflehunter advised, "They will not be too happy to see a Telmarine. Not to happy at all."

"But I mean no harm," Caspian said. "Surely they would know that if I am in your trust."

"They won't," Trufflehunter said. "Most Narnians have already judged all Telmarines based on the acts they've committed against us. They think you all ruthless, blood-thirsty, cruel tyrants." Caspian didn't think it strayed too far from a good description of Miraz. Trufflehunter left out heartless, however.

"Do you suppose they will believe my allegiance once I present the horn?" he asked.

Nikabrik chuckled a sinister laugh. "Not too likely. They'll just see it as one more thing you've stolen from us."

"I didn't steal _anything_," Caspian protested through gritted teeth. He usually had very good patience -- one had to when living in the same castle as Miraz -- but Nikabrik was taking a toll on his nerves. What had he done to them to make this dwarf hate him so?

"We'll see about that," Nikabrik snarled.

"Just wait a minute, now I won't stand for --" Caspian began angrily.

"Stop, stop!" Trufflehunter said. Caspian calmed and watched the badger stick his nose in the air. "Humans," he said after one sniff.

"Him?" Nikabrik questioned with indifference as he nodded towards Caspian.

"No." Trufflehunter turned behind him and Caspian followed his gaze. Soldiers, all riding on horse back. And they were headed straight for the group of three. "Them!"

Caspian whipped back around and began to sprint after Nikabrik as he ran through the crowded shrubbery of the forest. It wasn't until he heard a painful splicing sound that he stopped. He turned for a moment and saw Trufflehunter on the ground, an arrow poking through his fur. Nikabrik had stopped as well and looked back at his friend.

"No, I'll go," Caspian said hurriedly when the dwarf made to run back. He'd led the soldiers to them anyways. He felt that it was his fault. He ran back as quickly as he could and dropped to his knees beside the creature.

"Take it!" Trufflehunter held out the horn to Caspian and pressed it to his hands.

Caspian looked up and saw the soldiers advancing closer and closer still. He quickly took the horn from the badger and put it in the pouch again, but remained kneeling beside Trufflehunter. "I won't leave you," he said. Ignoring Trufflehunter's protests, he scooped the badger into his arms and began to run again.

But then he saw the head of a horse overcome him and begin to pass. He flinched away from it. Had they caught up to him?

He turned to see. And as he did, he found that other horses began to pass him, all baring no rider. Several of the pursuing soldiers were lying upon the forest floor, apparently dead.

Only one remained. He had taken out his sword and was hacking at the plant life towards his feet, completely ignoring Caspian.

What on earth? What was he doing?

Then, without an warning whatsoever, the soldier dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground as well. Caspian's brows raised and he turned his attention towards the ground. Something small was moving along, hidden to Caspian's eye, but he could see the movement of the grass. He turned and handed Trufflehunter off to Nikabrik before drawing his sword and preparing himself to fight off whatever was coming.

But it came so unexpectedly. Caspian was knocked flat onto his back, his sword was thrown from his hand, and he looked upon his chest to see a mouse.

"You are a mouse."

Inducing more surprise into Caspian, the mouse then spoke. "Yes, I am a mouse," it said wearily, "I was hoping for something a little more original..."

Caspian didn't speak. He was still shocked that this mouse had spoken at all.

"Pick up your sword," the mouse said.

"Uh...no thanks," Caspian replied. He fight a mouse? How was that _ever_ a fair fight?

"Pick it up!" the mouse said again, "I will not fight an unarmed man."

"Then I should live longer if I don't cross blades with you, noble mouse," he said.

The mouse's already minuscule eyes narrowed at Caspian and he pointed his tiny sword at his neck. "_I didn't say I would let you live_."

"Reepicheep!"

The mouse looked up and past Caspian. "Trufflehunter? I hope you have something important to say for interrupting me in such an untimely manner."

"He doesn't," Nikabrik grunted, "Go ahead."

"He's the one --" Trufflehunter said before taking a loud breath, " -- that blew the horn!"

"What?" the mouse -- apparently, Reepicheep -- said before looking down at Caspian in surprise. "That explains the soldiers." He jumped off Caspian's chest and allowed him to stand once again. He shoved his sword back into it's scabbard and followed the other three as they bounded ahead.

His stomach twisted itself into gulity and nervous knots. Soldiers. If they'd caught up to him so quickly, then how long would it take them to catch Jasmine as well?


	5. Pushing Forward

**Chapter Five: Pushing Forward**

_"After her!"_

_Jasmine's heart beat fast in her chest and felt like it might suddenly stop at any moment. She strained her head behind her to catch a glimpse of the men pursuing her. _

_They were gaining a lot of ground and catching up to her. Fast. _

_The intensity of her fear increased tenfold when her thoughts gave way to the obvious. She wasn't going to make it through this. But, nonetheless, she urged Camille on faster and faster, sending silent apologies to the mare through her gentle strokes as the guilt of pushing her so far weighed upon Jasmine._

_And then all of the tiniest bit of hope that she had once held on to was taken from her grasp. Just up ahead of her, was a cliff. And Camille was going much too fast to stop. Jasmine hated herself for the decision she made -- she jumped from the horse's back, tumbled to the ground unscathed, and turned her head when Camille reached the edge. She couldn't endure that sight. Not even tears dripped from her eyes to grieve the horse. But, of course, she never cried anymore. Never. _

_Before she could even process what she'd done, the men were upon her. The horses, all black as night, abruptly stopped just before the break in the land where Camille had fallen. The man at the very front of the five dismounted his steed and walked over to Jasmine._

_Utterly defenseless, Jasmine only sat, cowering against the trunk of a tree, and stared at him. _

_The man chuckled. A low, sinister chuckle that she knew all too well. _

_"I'm so glad you're safe," her father, Miraz, said. _

_She couldn't speak. She knew it would only make her situation that much worse and make him that much more angry with her. _

_"Get up!" _

_She did as she was told. _

_"Do you want to see just what happens to a filthy, worthless traitor such as yourself?" he asked. His tone was calm and light, like the same a father might use when praising his daughter. But, instead, he was condemning his. _

_She shook her head violently, hopeful that this simple action would not stir even more anger within him. _

_He chuckled again. "Show her." _

_She'd barely noticed that the four other men accompanying her father had dismounted their horses as well. She was surprised when two arms suddenly grabbed out of the darkness to restrain each of her own, but did not struggle. She knew she had already lost. _

_The other two men shuffled forward to the group, carrying something between them. It was a body. Jasmine could tell from the silhouette that the moon's rays shone off of. _

_She turned her head away and scrunched her eyes. A rank odor of blood spilled long ago met her nose and it screamed in warning. _

_"Look!" She felt the rough and callused hands of her father grip her neck and jerk her head to face front again. She scrunched her eyes shut tighter, unwilling to see the horror she knew to be before her. _

_"I said_ _look, you worthless mongrel!" A hard slap ran across her cheek and she felt the sticky flow of blood upon the impact. And then the pain. Not something new to her in the slightest._

_She reluctantly lifted her lids. _

_The sight was much worse than she'd imagined. The bloody body of Caspian was held between the two men. Long gashes encrusted with dried blood and blood anew ran all along his arms and legs and several deep wounds in his chest told her he'd been stabbed many times, mercilessly._

_"No," she moaned, shaking her head. "No, no, no!" _

_"Yes," Miraz sneered. "And you're next, dear daughter." _

_The last thing she knew were her shrill screams of terror lifting into the night sky and the form of Miraz coming towards her, baring a sword already covered in blood that shone the deepest red in the moonlight._

_---_

Jasmine awoke abruptly, breathing very deeply as though her lungs were struggling to get enough oxygen throughout her body. Her bright green eyes shifted this way and that, looking for any unexpected villain to come leaping out from the shadows. But none came.

She calmed slightly.

_It was just a dream_, she told herself, _just a dream..._

Then why did it feel so real? Was it because, subconsciously, she feared that it would happen after all? Or did she _know_ it would?

She hadn't given much thought to her beloved cousin since she'd left the castle. _Of course he would flee as well_, she reasoned. He was in just as much danger as her now.

So where was he? Why hadn't she thought to flee together? She brought her hands up to her forehead and the cool feeling that emanated from them felt good on her hot face. She'd been so focused on getting _herself_ out and saving _herself_ that she hadn't even spared a single thought for Caspian. And now he could be dead for all she knew.

And she would be next.

Well, Jasmine was not going to sit there and do nothing. She wasn't going to give up and just let them find her.

Though she had just stopped for the night only a few hours before, she got up at once and swiftly walked towards her sleeping steed. She caressed Camille's mane gently and smiled when the mare opened her eyes.

"Come on girl," she said, "Time to go now."

Camille stretched her legs out and made to stand. _Such a smart girl_, Jasmine thought with a grin. She'd always loved how well Camille understood her.

The mare lowered her back just a bit so that Jasmine could easily climb aboard and take the reigns.

"Let's go girl," she whispered into Camille's ear. The horse began at a trot, just to wake her legs (Jasmine's interest in horses had given her enough experience to know this) and then she took off in a full gallop.

Jasmine smiled against the night as the breeze blew past her, feeling so refreshing after her draining nightmare.

---

"He's a Telmarine! Why should we believe _anything_ he has to say?"

"Now, now," Trufflehunter held up his pudgy paws in futile efforts to calm the crowd, "Let's just listen --"

"He doesn't deserve the listening of our ears!" a satyr roared, to much approval of others around it, "The Telmarines have never listened to us, why should we listen to them?"

Many shouts of "Hear, hear!" and "Too right you are!" filled the clearing in the woods.

Caspian was beginning to feel as though he should just give up. These people weren't going to listen to him, let alone follow him on an expedition to achieve his crown. What use was it in continuing to persuade a group that weren't going to have it?

"He has Queen Susan's horn!" Reepicheep called into the crowd. "I have been traveling with the Prince for an entire day now and he has done nothing to harm me!"

"Not yet!" a Minotaur called, "The whole lot of them are backstabbers! We can't trust him!"

"That just proves that they've stolen something dear to our fallen country!" Nikabrik added. Not for the first time, Caspian wanted to rage at the dwarf for turning on him so quickly.

At the very moment he was determined to call it off, Caspian's gaze swept forward and met that of a female centaur. Her eyes were wide and worn with obvious worry, fear, and pain. The two little ones around her looked so unhealthy and as though they could die at any moment. Their slight eyes also showed the same expression that their mother's wore.

Is this what his people had done to them?

An fierce anger arose in Caspian's chest and his eyes took on a new light of determination. The suffering of these people was so profound that he could not ignore it. He held up the horn in his hands and spoke in a rumble that overtook the crowd's words and they hushed at once, listening for the first time.

"I may be a Telmarine," he said, looking around to meet the eyes of everyone, "But I do _not_ support my people. I do _not_ support what they have done here."

"And yet you stood by and let it happen anyways!"

Caspian went on, ignoring the few protests. "The throne is rightfully mine," he said, "If you will band together and help me to claim it, I promise I will give you back your country. Together, we will take back what is ours!"

The silence remained in the area and Caspian took this as a good sign. A sign that they were believing, considering.

"Let us unite as one, all friends, and together we will conquer the Telmarines into extinction and restore the Narnian lands to their former peace and glory!"

His words rang through the crowd with a grand resonance and, for the first time that night, the crowd roared in approval. Approval for him.

_Don't worry_, he thought, _I haven't forgotten you either, Jasmine. I promise I will save you as well. I promise. _


	6. Unforeseen

**Chapter Six: Unforeseen**

Jasmine was sure she had just heard the pounding of horse hooves upon ground, coming from somewhere behind her. Positive of it. She turned in her saddle and her suspicions proved true when she located the brief swish of a black mane through the dense wood. Her fingers slipped from the reigns and an unseasonable cold numbed her.

Her dream. It was happening.

She heard no shouts of conquest or victory, however, and was sure that they hadn't spotted her yet. That gave her time. Time enough to formulate a plan, though a risky one at that.

She held Camille's silky mane tight for a moment and patted the mare's head affectionately. She hoped Camille would fare better than Jasmine suspected of herself. Before she could change her mind though, she jumped from the mare's back and tumbled to the forest floor, stopping just off the beaten path. Fortunately, this time, there was no burden of a cliff and Camille continued to run along the path, meeting no danger just yet. Jasmine only hoped that her father would spare the gentle creature when he found no rider atop of her.

Of course, then he'd know that Jasmine had been here.

But there was no time to waste thinking about the consequences of her actions. They were already done and the past couldn't be erased. She knew that fact only too well.

Jasmine staggered up and rushed into a clutter of trees where she was sure not to be seen by the men as they passed. She watched the scene unfold before her and found that her plan worked more perfectly than she had anticipated. The men had finally noticed Camille and all continued to gallop forward in eager pursuit, apparently believing that Jasmine was astride it. She waited until they all rode by, but the tense tightening in her body and feeling of panic did not fade. Now, she was in the woods, alone and targeted, without any means of transportation other than her own two feet. The only thing that gave her comfort was the fact that her shoulder still bore the bow and quiver of arrows from the stables.

Unable to do anything else, she began to walk. She walked straight through the forest, having no idea of where she was going. Or what she was going to.

So, she had been right in thinking her father had sent soldiers after her. This came as no surprise. But did that mean that Caspian had already been caught? Was he being tortured right at this moment? Or was he already dead by her father's own hand? She shuddered at the thought of having anything to do with that vile man. By _no_ means did she look at him as a father; a sadistic lunatic was more like it. But then her thoughts drifted back to Caspian and of how much she knew her father wanted him dead. Once again, she wondered if her father had already been appeased by his death.

No, she was going to maintain the belief that he was alive and well. She was going to hang on to that sliver of hope for as long as she could. It felt as though that were all she had left and she wasn't ready to let it go, not yet.

Suddenly a crisp crack that resounded against the trees took her from her thoughts and she stopped. Her body could not move an inch for fear._ Had the soldiers already learned of her ploy? Had they found her again?_

"Hello?" a voice called out. She tensed. The voice didn't sound like the gruff tone of the Telmarine soldiers, but she could never be too careful... It was enough that there was a voice at all.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

The stiffness of her muscles did not relent, but she still began to walk along again. She didn't want to stay and find out if it _was_ the soldiers or not. That was a fool's errand, in her mind.

Her footsteps made soft sounds as she walked along and Jasmine hoped with all her heart that her unknown -- and _unwanted_ -- companion would not hear.

"Hello?!" the voice called louder, "Is someone there?"

Her pacing quickened as the desire to put as much space between them as possible reigned supreme over her fear that he would hear her. Her feet crunched at the dirt and twigs, but she no longer cared. Her only goal was to get away from the stranger, and her fear of him unfortunately heightened by the imposing darkness.

She tried to ignore the voice, as it had now stopped, but then found that much harder as a hand flew out and clutched at her wrist. It wasn't an exceedingly harsh hold, as was the usual of the Telmarines, but still she did not let her guard down. The person -- presumably a young man from the strength with which he held her -- grasped her tighter around the arms and she found her body being pushed into a tree so hard that the quiver of arrows dug into her back quite painfully.

"_Who are you_?"

She felt the warm breath of the attacker on her face and looked ahead of her to see the face of a young man. She could barely tell of his features through the darkness, but a small patch of moonlight shone through the tree branches above them and her eyes looked over the part of his face that was not in the shadows. From what she could tell, he seemed very close to her own age and definitely was _not_a Telmarine soldier. But he still held her captive against the bark of the tree, so she believed him no less of a foe than before. She said nothing in response to his question as the fear overtook her again. Her only response was an attempted struggle against his hold, but she soon found that he was too strong for her.

"Let me go." She had meant for her words to be threatening but they only sounded weak and pitiful to her.

"I'll ask again," he said slowly in a rougher voice, clearly not one to take pity just for her gender. "_Who are you_?"

Instead of striking more fear into her being, the words made her angry this time. This man was harassing her for no valid reason at all and _he_ was demanding _her_ name? That didn't sit well with her, not well at all.

"Tell me you're name!" he growled, more aggressively.

Now she was beginning to grow frightened again. No matter her anger, there was no overpowering this man and she knew it. She received an unnecessary and more unsettling reminder as she continued to struggle against him, but did not prevail. She was beginning to wonder how much worse this new opposition was than the Telmarines. Perhaps she had two sets of enemies in these woods?

Her wrists began to ache in pain from his tight grip on them and she stopped struggling. It only weakened her and made her a more susceptible prey.

"Let me _go_," she begged.

"Not until I get some answers," he growled.

Was it in her best interest to reveal her name? What if this man was in league with her father? She shuddered and decided that she would gladly take the stranger over her father.

But she wouldn't give in without a fight first. Despite her earlier fails, she decided to take on an offensive action. She lifted her knee up, preparing to jab the man hard in the groin, inflicting enough damage for her to possibly escape.

But she was surprised. While one of his hands remained pinning her to the tree by an arm, he flashed the other down to stop her action, curling his fingers around her thigh, just above the knee.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked. Even now she was realizing just how hysterical she must have sounded. And also how weak.

He ignored her plea. "_Tell me your name_."

More desperate than ever, she considered the only other option that she felt she had. She attempted to slip her free hand up and behind her shoulder and found that she could. She angled it slightly and began to reach for the quiver. Success; she felt the thick leather casing against her palm and rejoiced. It was a tight squeeze, but she just barely managed it. However, the elation she felt didn't last long. Upon lowering her fingers deeper into it, she found the quiver to be empty.

_What, no!_She despaired in the reality that she had most likely dropped them when she had jumped from Camille's back. Though she felt the effort now pointless, she lowered her fingers further into the quiver, and received a pleasant surprise. Her fingers felt the pointy tips of a splintered shaft. And then the feel of a crumpled fletching. A single broken arrow -- her very last chance.

_Well that's better than nothing..._

She dug around until she found the end with the arrowhead. When she did, she grasped it tight and took it out, then plunged the point into the young man's shoulder without hesitation. Just as she'd hoped, there was a gasp of pain and his hold on her weakened enough to the point that she could break free. She immediately sprinted from him, amazed that it had worked at all, and not sparing a single look behind her.

_Gotta hide, gotta hide, gotta hide. _

She searched frantically for a break in the trees where she could escape. She found a small parting between two large tree trunks and slipped through, hoping that her captor would have a difficult time looking for her. She didn't raise her hopes enough to believe she would fully escape though, not after all the years of disappointment she'd received when she hoped such things.

The soles of her boots made little noise as she ran, but she still feared that he would find her if he followed. She swerved to the left, climbing through a clump of trees as she went. No sound of a follower came to her ears and she chanced a look back now, to see if she had successfully evaded him after all. When she saw no one behind her, she swiveled her head to face front again. And nearly ran into a roaring fire pit.

Jasmine stopped so abruptly that the dirt clouded into the air, seizing at her throat and eyes and momentarily snatching her vision. When it cleared, she looked forward again to see a group -- two girls, a young man, and a..._dwarf?!_ -- all staring up at her in disbelief. She turned on her heel to sprint away again before they could get a good enough look at her, but rammed into a solid obstruction in her path.

With a feeling of foreboding, she lifted her eyes and locked them with that of the young man that had captured her just minutes before. They were a deep brown that crashed over her like an ocean's wave and swallowed her whole. Before she could will her feet to move again, he placed both hands around her wrists and pulled her to him with such force that their bodies collided and a trickle of fear spread through hers from the contact.

"Your name."

She stared wordlessly at his young face. He didn't_ look_ like a cruel person, but his eyes did seem to take on an angry glimmer as they bored into hers. Perhaps that was for the fact that she had stabbed him with an arrow? She hoped it was that and nothing more. She didn't need any other people to hate her than those that already did.

"Ed, what are you _doing_?"

Jasmine turned her head and saw one of the girls -- the youngest from the looks of it -- get up and begin to wander towards them, her face set in a look of complete confusion. "She's not doing anything to harm us at all."

"She was sneaking around," he replied through gritted teeth. "And she wouldn't tell me her name. Obviously a _spy_ of some sorts."

She furrowed her brows and frowned at him indignantly. She wasn't having _wrong_ accusations thrown at her by this stranger. "I am _not_ a spy."

"Let her go, Ed," another male voice chimed in. She saw that the other boy -- blond this time, as opposed to the dark-haired that held her -- had gotten up from his place beside the fire and walked up behind the young girl. "She can't get very far if she tries to run again anyways."

'Ed' stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment and she widened her own, recoiling in fear from the intimidation in this look. Only her _father's_ look scared her more than this.

"Fine," he murmured before dropping his hands from her own, though he did not widen the space between them. The fright she felt in his presence compelled her to take a few steps back and the other boy and girl came into her vision.

"Who are you?" the girl asked politely, brown eyes shining with something that Jasmine tried to pinpoint. Concern, perhaps? But why would a stranger be concerned for her?

"Jasmine." Though she'd been so reluctant to release this information to the other boy, she felt that the girl meant no harm towards her. She had no hope of escaping now anyways. As the blond boy had so rightly put it, she would not get far before they caught her again.

"Nice to meet you, Jasmine," she said, holding out a hand in greeting, "I'm Lucy. Er -- do you need...help, or something?"

Boy did she ever.

"No," she choked out, turning her head from them and ignoring the hand. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine."

"Are you sure?" the blond boy asked. "There's nothing we can do for you?"

She frowned again. What was with these people? Why would they care, why would they offer aid to a complete stranger such as herself? She could be an assassin for all they knew and yet they were extending a helping hand. Definitely something she wasn't used to.

"We'd like to help you," Lucy said, "I can tell that you're _not_ perfectly fine. Please, tell us what we can do."

Jasmine stared at Lucy for a long while, and then a sudden thought occurred to her head. How did she know she could trust _them_? Sure, they seemed kind and generous on the outside...but what were they like on the inside? If there was anything that she had learned at that rancid castle, it was to never trust appearances.

"Who are you?" Jasmine questioned suspiciously.

She saw Lucy exchange glances with the older boy and then look back up at Jasmine hesitantly. "We're...the Kings and Queens of Old."

Jasmine's breath caught in her throat and her head spun. This wasn't possible. They'd disappeared hundreds of years ago! She knew this for _sure_, because her people had overrun their country in their absence!

"No," she shook her head, "No, you're lying!"

"_My sister doesn't lie_," the blond boy retorted. Jasmine's eyebrows shot up and she found that he actually frightened her even more than the other boy. She took another step back.

"Be _nice,_ Peter," Lucy scolded him quietly. She looked back at Jasmine, kindness still in her eyes despite the accusation. "We are who we say we are; please believe us."

Jasmine still held doubts in her mind and her eyes flitted between them nervously. "Prove it."

Lucy flickered her eyes away from Jasmine and looked back to the fire pit, where a dark-haired girl still sat. "Susan!"

The older girl -- Jasmine assumed the sister of the other three; she had noticed shared features -- took a deep red scabbard, that looked made of leather such as that of Jasmine's quiver, in her hands and approached them.

The older boy gripped the golden, ruby encrusted hilt protruding from the sheath and Jasmine's mouth fell open when he took the sword from it. At first, she thought him preparing to strike her, but then saw that he only held the sword up in the moonlight for her to see. She took a closer look at it, and then her shocked eyes dropped to his.

"The sword...Rhindon." She gasped and covered a hand over her mouth in her surprise, but took it away before she spoke again, in hushed tones this time. "_You_ are High King Peter...the Magnificent..."

She didn't wait for an answer before turning her attention next to the two girls beside him. "Queen Susan the Gentle...And Queen Lucy the Valiant..."

"Yes," Lucy affirmed, "We truly are them."

And Jasmine believed her. She wasn't quite sure if it was the overbearing ringing of truth in her voice or something else, but she knew it was the truth. And if that's who _they_ were, then...

"And you..." she mumbled, reluctantly shifting her head to look at the boy that had captured her previously. The moment she addressed him, he raked his scorching eyes to trap hers again and words failed her. It was as though he had captured her in such a hold -- much the same as before -- that she could not take her eyes from.

The feeling of intimidation overwhelmed her once again and she gulped in vain attempt to shake the feeling away. Her throat finally unstuck but she continued to look at him with wide eyes. She wasn't sure whether they were more full of fear or a less frightened awe.

"You...must be King Edmund," she said, "the Just."


	7. Pursuit and Descent

**Chapter Seven: Pursuit and Descent**

After so many of Lucy's pleas, Jasmine reluctantly agreed to stay with the group, at least for the night. Though the others did not know, she was secretly grateful for she had no where else to go without the impending presence of the Telmarine soldiers.

"Tell us about yourself," Lucy said as she sat herself next to Jasmine. The girl looked around at everyone else: King Peter was leaning against a tree and looking sullen, King Edmund was staring in the opposite direction, Trumpkin the Dwarf was watching her with a look of intense hatred, and Queen Susan wore an apathetic expression. All in all, Jasmine decided that, with the exception of Lucy, they all found her as interesting as last month's porridge. Scratch that; Kings Peter and Edmund looked as though they would find even that more interesting than her.

"Er -- yes, your Majesty," she replied in a quiet voice. "What is it that you would like to know?"

"Why are you in these woods alone?" Trumpkin interrupted gruffly. "Who sent you?"

"Trumpkin!" Lucy scolded, "Do be nice, she's done nothing to harm us."

"She's a Telmarine," he said with narrowed eyes. "She's one of _them_." At this, Kings Peter and Edmund glanced over at the group.

"Is that true?" Peter questioned. He didn't say it quite as rudely as she would have expected from his facial expression, but it still wasn't kind and she was glad that he happened to be on the other side of the campfire. The two kings frightened her with the intimidating looks in their eyes and their broad shoulders; both were much bigger than her and she had no doubt that they could overpower her quite easily.

"Yes, your Majesty. It is."

"Much worse than that," Trumpkin said as his eyes skimmed over her -- the look disturbed her; it was rather like some sort of inspection. "She's a _royal _Telmarine."

"How can you tell?" Susan questioned.

"The state of her clothes," Trumpkin said with a pointed nod in Jasmine's direction. "Despite the scratches and tears, they are royal. I've seen enough of the Telmarines to know this."

"You have?" Jasmine asked. The only time she had ever remembered her people coming in contact with Narnians was their termination of the poor creatures.

"Been to the castle myself," he continued, "I was captured and taken to that usurper Miraz not too long ago."

A gasp escaped Jasmine's lips at the sound of the name and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh dear!"

"The man has no mercy," Trumpkin added.

"No he hasn't," Jasmine quietly agreed.

Trumpkin once again narrowed his eyes and looked at her coldly. "What kind of Telmarine are you? Usually they would be praising Miraz for his cruelty."

"It's awful," she replied. "He is _not_ fit to rule."

"Are you a rebel perhaps?" Lucy asked. "You obviously seem to have been travelling about these woods for ages and now you disagree with the Telmarines' practices."

"You could say that," Jasmine replied grimly. "However, instead of a heroic call to arms, I only escaped to save my own life."

"Whatever do you mean?" Lucy pressed. "Surely you would have been in no danger had you been of royal heritage."

"No," she replied, "I was lulled under that false security once, but I am no stranger to the cruelty of my people. You see, the brutal regent Miraz...is my father."

"And he threatened your _life_?" Lucy asked quietly with wide eyes.

"Not directly," Jasmine replied. "The night I left, my mother bore him a son. And I knew that he would want no other to stand in the child's way of the throne. I knew that I would be killed if I stayed much longer."

"But that's...that's _horrible_," Lucy gushed. "How can he do such a thing to his own daughter?"

"He would order others to have me killed, actually," Jasmine corrected, "But I don't suppose he would have any quarries to do the job himself."

"Are these people really that bad?" Lucy asked Trumpkin. Small tears were at the corners of her eyes and she looked very saddened.

"Narnia has become a much more savage place," he growled. "The Telmarine invaders are brutal and it shows in their lifestyle. They've spread that same atmosphere everywhere they go."

"We must do something about them," Peter spoke up again. "We'll have to gather armies, make plans, do anything we can to take Narnia back."

"We'll have to find the Prince," Trumpkin added. "Though I _hate _to involve Telmarines, he will be an incredible asset."

"Prince?" Jasmine asked earnestly. _Could it be...?_

"Yes," Trumpkin responded. "It seems you're not the only rebel among the Telmarines. Just before I was captured, my comrades and I found a lad who I believe may be the Prince Caspian."

"Is he well?" she asked with a smile.

"I should think so," Trumpkin replied gruffly, "The soldiers took me and didn't bother to search further for him."

_Thank the stars!_ As long as Caspian was all right...she could hope again.

"Thank you ever so much," Jasmine said with a bright smile.

"You seem to know him," Peter said, a slight bit of interest in his voice.

"I -- I do, your Majesty," she said, stunned by his sudden speech; she'd almost forgotten of the two men beyond the campfire. Her insides squirmed with fear as she locked eyes with Peter briefly. She quickly looked away and at the ground. "We grew up together, your Majesty."

"He seems important to you," Lucy said.

"Very much so," Jasmine agreed, "I don't know what I would do without him."

"Well hopefully you shan't have to find out," Lucy replied.

"Hopefully," Jasmine agreed softly. She brought up a hand to stifle a yawn.

"Oh!" Lucy exclaimed. "I've forgotten how late it's getting. You must be tired from all of your travelling."

Tired? No, she was _exhausted_. "Just a bit, your Majesty."

"We should all get some sleep," Lucy said. She looked back at Jasmine again and smiled, "And you can drop the 'your Majesty.' I prefer my friends to call me Lucy."

"All right, your -- I mean, Lucy," Jasmine stuttered.

Lucy grinned at her. "See now, that's much better, isn't it?"

Jasmine gave the Queen an embarrassed nod of her head as she laid upon the soft grass of the campsite. There was a shuffling of feet and the fire was put out, then all was quiet.

"Good night, Jasmine."

Jasmine smiled to herself; she was beginning to like the Queen very much for her kindness. "Good night, Lucy."

---

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Susan asked.

"Of course I am," Peter snapped. Jasmine found that he was becoming more irritable by the moment and felt her dislike for him flood at such times.

"I just thought I'd ask, Peter," she replied testily, "No need to be so rude."

He spared her no reply and only trudged onward.

"Don't mind him," Lucy whispered to Jasmine, "He's been quite grouchy this entire time."

"Have you any idea why?" Jasmine asked.

"No," Lucy replied, "Though his ego has been inflating rather more than usual."

Jasmine nodded and the two sped their pace to catch up with the others. "Why have we stopped?" Lucy asked when they reached them.

But then the two heard a great rushing of water and inched forward just a bit to peer over the cliff that the others stood upon.

"That's why," Trumpkin said when they both saw that one wouldn't reach the water until the very bottom; a drop that seemed perilous from these extreme heights.

"Well we _weren't_lost," Peter said defensively when Susan and Trumpkin gave him glares of reproach.

"Just going the bloody wrong way," Trumpkin grunted. "There's a ford near Beruna though, how do you lot feel about swimming?"

"I'd rather that than walking..." Susan muttered. She began to follow Trumpkin back into the forested area and Jasmine made to go too, but a cry from Lucy stopped them all.

"Look! Look there, it's Aslan!"

"What?" Susan turned to peer across the cliff where Lucy pointed excitedly.

"I don't see anything," Peter said.

"He's right...there." Lucy's face fell when she looked again but must have seen the same empty cliff that the others had seen. "He _was_ there," she said to Susan and Peter's challenging looks.

"Why wouldn't I have seen him?" Peter asked.

"Maybe you weren't looking," she replied, staring at him with big brown eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders and gave her something of an apologetic grimace. "Sorry Lu."

Jasmine looked back at Lucy as she watched the others go and saw that her face was extremely saddened.

"It's all right," she said in a hushed tone as she put an arm around Lucy's shoulders. "I believe you well enough."

"You do?" she asked, apparently taken by surprise at this knowledge.

"Yes," Jasmine said. "You're an honest person and if you say you saw Aslan, than I believe you."

Lucy smiled and sniffed as the tears came to a stop. "Thanks Jasmine."

"Your welcome." And Jasmine smiled down at her new friend.

---

"Oh my..." Jasmine peered over the log and saw many Telmarine soldiers working incessantly at building large pieces of weaponry. "They must know you four have returned."

"I hope not," Peter whispered; even he looked wary at the sight of the Telmarines preparing for battle. "That could lose us some time that we don't have."

"We had better get moving again," Susan said, "Obviously we cannot cross this way."

"Where else can we go?" Peter asked. "We can't possibly cross the River Rush either."

"Yes we can!" Lucy whispered back. "Aslan wanted us to follow him! It seems so obvious now: he was trying to help us get to our destination!"

"Lucy..." Peter sighed and exchanged a look with Susan.

"It's the only thing we've got for now, Peter," she said, "We might as well try."

After a moment, he nodded wordlessly and the two began to walk back towards the trees, followed by Trumpkin and Lucy. Jasmine waited, expecting to follow Edmund but he nodded his head after them in indication for her to go.

The moment she stood up to follow the others, he watched her again and their eyes locked for the briefest time. She flickered them away and felt blood rising to her cheeks. Was she _blushing_? Well, she was always shy around strangers, so that did make sense. She shook her head to clear the thoughts and once again made to leave her spot behind the pile of wood. And accidentally knocked it over in her haste.

"What was that?" A voice that was neither hers nor Edmund's spoke, and it sounded dangerously close. "The Princess!" Her body stilled at once and she looked around her shoulder. Close by one of the carriages, she spotted General Glozelle. He was quite alone but she saw him glaring in her direction and beckoned other men to come over to him. The others looked and saw her as well; angry shouts resounded and several of the men began to sprint towards them.

Edmund's hand flew to grasp hers and he lurched through the trees, pulling her along with him.

_No, no, no!_ She'd led the soldiers straight to the Kings and Queens, straight to the only hopes that the land had left!

"I'm sorry!" she cried to Edmund.

He shook his head to stop her from talking. "Just keep running."

She nodded helplessly and pushed herself to move faster, still keeping a hold on his hand for support. She did not want to be alone right now, even if her only other option was a king whom she barely knew and scared the wits out of her. She looked back and found that there were a few soldiers in their pursuit, all on foot. Which was just as well; without horses, the bunch could possibly be outran.

Then her stomach dropped sickeningly when a sudden thought occurred to her. Where were the others? They could just as well be caught...and it was all her fault. But she hadn't much time to think about this. It was all she could to keep her legs moving as fast as possible.

Quite abruptly, Edmund stopped and she lurched forward before their entwined hands pulled her to spring back. "What?" she questioned him hurriedly, "They're after us -- we've got to go!"

But she looked forward and spotted the cliff again; now she understood why he'd stopped. But, the others should be somewhere around here!

"Didn't the others come around here?" she asked him. "Perhaps we should look for them." The shouts and yells grew closer. _And fast,_she thought.

She broke free of his grip and walked forward to take a closer look at the cliff. She found the spot where Lucy had been standing when she'd seen Aslan. "I don't understand," she muttered, "Lucy said he was right -- " Caught in mid-sentence, she shrieked when her foot suddenly slipped over the edge and she plummeted downwards. The last thing she saw was Edmund racing over to her and the Telmarine soldiers edging out of the trees behind him.


	8. Trek for Two

**Chapter Eight: Trek for Two**

"Oof!"

Edmund rolled over on the hard ground and blinked up at the sun's rays that struck his eyes. _What just happened?_

He looked over to his other side and saw Jasmine lying on the ground, eyes closed and breathing evenly. A brief glance up and above them confirmed his suspicions. The cliff seemed nearly twenty feet from where they landed and the fall must have knocked her unconscious.

He looked back over at Jasmine and couldn't help but think she looked quite delicate, even for a woman. He sat up, his muscles aching from the impact of his fall, and looked around them. Other than the expanse through which they'd fallen, there was a ceiling of earth along a lined pathway. It seemed they'd fallen right into a passage embedded into the cliff. And, with a leap of his heart, he looked further on and found that it looked like it would slope downwards, most likely leading towards the bottom of the canyon that had become of the River Rush.

However, a very faint trail of voices interrupted his flow of thought and his body tightened. He strained his ears and listened, barely able to interpret the words from such a far distance.

"Keep looking! They're around here somewhere!"

"What are your orders if we happen to find them, General?"

A pause.

"Kill them."

Edmund's hands felt clammy from a wave of panic that seemed to swallow him whole. He crept over to Jasmine's unmoving body and pulled her under the earthen ceiling to -- hopefully -- hide them both from the view of the Telmarine soldiers.

"General, you might want to take a look at this."

"What is it?"

"A cliff, General. Would you venture so far as to say they've already fallen to their deaths?"

"We can hope. I don't doubt that they've found some means of escape, though. Narnians are tricky blighters when they want to be. But I don't see how they'd manage to survive this fall. Best we keep looking."

"Aye General."

And then the voices stopped. He heard cries and shouts, all growing fainter until he could hear them no more. His body eased with relief and he let his head fall back onto the earthen wall as he breathed heavily.

A soft rustle of fabric and movement along his legs prompted him to look back down. Jasmine's body, sprawled over his lap, was beginning to stir. She opened her eyes carefully and they widened upon sighting him; she almost looked about to scream.

"Don't!" he warned, covering her mouth with his hand.

He saw the relief take form on her face when she recognized him. She reached her own hands up and covered his with them before pulling it off her mouth. "What happened?" she whispered.

"Telmarines," he hissed, "They ran after us and you fell from the cliff."

"I fell from the _cliff_?"

He nodded. "Although, somehow, it wasn't the very same sort of cliff we'd spotted earlier. It wasn't as long a drop as before." Which was very strange, now he came to think about it. Didn't the only thing below them appear to be the stream, the first time they'd looked?

"How peculiar..." she mumbled. And then she must have noticed that her body had been lying across his lap because her cheeks both reddened. Indeed, flaming blood rushed up to Edmund's cheeks as well when he noted just how close the two were.

Jasmine took a quick look at him and her blush deepened. She hastily sat up and climbed off of him to sit on the cavern floor. "My apologies, your Majesty," she said in a flustered whisper.

Edmund frowned. He wasn't sure what it was -- whether it be the exceptionally proper tone with which she spoke, or the slight hostility behind her eyes -- but he hated the use of his title when uttered from this woman's mouth. Why was that so? There had been a time when he had simply relished in the thought of being more important than others. And, though he was quite a different person now than he was then, he never _hated_ to be called a royal title. The sensation was new to him and he was puzzled by it.

"Er -- where are we, your Majesty?" she asked, looking around in the dimmed passage. Barely any sun made it through as it was beginning to set on the other side of the cliff.

"I haven't a clue," he replied -- his stomach churned at the appellation, but he did his utmost to ignore it. "I daresay we'll find out soon enough." He stood, having to stoop his head as he was taller than the passage, and then offered her his arm.

She placed one hesitant hand over it and followed him.

---

The two carefully walked along the path, both keeping quiet and only speaking in whispers -- though they didn't speak often. At even the slightest noise, Edmund's body would tense up and he'd look behind them as though expecting to see a regiment of enemy soldiers. It was never completely reassuring when he didn't; it kept him guessing and he didn't like that at all.

"Ssh, stop," he whispered. Jasmine halted at once and looked at him with questioning eyes that held traces of fear, as though she were thinking he'd heard a danger. Luckily it wasn't danger that he'd heard. "A stream," he hissed. He had heard the trickling sound of flowing water and, though the darkness that had fallen on the night made it near pitch black, he was sure that meant that they had made it to the bottom of the ravine.

"I'll go first," she whispered. The small puffs of breath he'd felt on his face left him and he reached his hand out to be sure she was kept in his range.

And then, all of a sudden, he heard a break in the water's surface. The material of Jasmine's dress passed his fingertips for just a moment before he lurched out and took a hold of what felt to be her arm. He staggered as the added weight pulled at him, but did not allow himself to lose his footing. There was just a small intake of surprised breath that passed through his gritted teeth and he grasped at her hand and arm, pulling.

He knew when she'd risen from the water's capsule for the silence in the air was split with choking and gasping of breath. He groped around in the darkness until both his hands closed around hers and he pulled her back onto solid ground where he stood.

"Are you all right?" he whispered.

"Yes," came her breathless reply.

There was a tug of guilt at his heart. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I suppose it was deeper than I'd anticipated."

"It's fine."

But he continued to feel taken with guilt. There was something about this girl; he didn't _want_ anything bad to happen to her. Perhaps Peter's over-protectiveness was rubbing off on him.

As he drew closer to her, he felt that she was shaking incessantly and her hands were like ice.

"Are you cold?" He didn't wait for her to respond, for the answer was obvious. He hastened to close the space between them. But she backed away.

"I'm fine."

The gesture touched his heart and left it as frozen as her hands felt. The feeling that flowed through him felt like rejection, but he had not a single idea why he would care.

"We'll have to walk along the sides," he said. "Keep close to the cliff so that you don't fall back in the water."

"Yes, your Majesty."

His insides downed at the disappointment that swept through him at these words but he only turned to begin leading her down the narrow path between the cliff wall and banks of the stream.

---

Edmund raised his head for a moment and saw a bright light through the trees. The impending darkness made it stick out like a star in the night sky. He stopped and felt Jasmine run into his back before stopping as well.

"What is it?"

"Do you see that?" he asked, turning his head though he couldn't see her in the dark, "There's a light, just there. Do you see it?"

"I see it," she replied. "Do you...think it's safe?"

He didn't want to tell her the truth. He didn't want to give her any reason to fear.

"Keep close," was all he said.

"Okay." He felt a timid hand crawl through the darkness and rest along his arm. And, despite their situation, he smiled at the touch.

Both walked along slowly, careful to make little noise. They found the beginnings of a wood and continued onward until they reached a break in the trees through which they could both see a small fire. There were silhouettes around it, but Edmund spotted no detail to tell of their identities.

"I'm going to see who they are," Edmund whispered. He turned his head to look at Jasmine, now seeing her shadowed face in the dim fire light that barely reached them. "I want you to stay here," he added.

It was a moment, a long moment, before she slowly nodded her head.

He turned back to face the fire again and crept through the trees until there was only one more to conceal him. He poked his head around the side of the trunk; the detailed features of the group were still unknown, but he could tell that there were three people seated about the campfire. A prick of fear punched its way through his barriers and rooted him to the spot.

But then a soft hand touched his and, suddenly, he felt strengthened again.

"What are you _doing_?" he hissed, looking up to see Jasmine, just as he thought he might, "I asked you to stay put."

"I -- I'm sorry."

Pause.

"I am sorry, your Majesty," she continued, more quietly.

"It's all right."

He tore his eyes from hers and peered back around the tree. Without a moment's worth of thought, he stole from behind his cover and out into the open. When the fire's light splayed over him, the others looked up. And he finally saw their faces.

"Oh, it's only _you_," he sighed in relief.

"Nice to see you too, Ed," Peter scoffed.

"Oh Edmund!" Lucy jumped from her spot on the forest floor and bounded over to take him in embrace. "We _hoped_ you would come find us!"

"We tried to wait for you," Susan said with a remorseful grimace as she took Edmund in her arms as well, "but then we heard the soldiers and..."

"Peter wouldn't let us stop," Lucy finished quietly, as though it were a very shameful act, "He told us that you could handle yourself and keep Jasmine safe as well." At this point, she had seemed to remember their tag-along and stood on the tips of her toes to glimpse over his shoulder. "Where is she?" she asked, resting back down on the balls of her feet.

"I'm here," came a small voice. He looked over his shoulder and found that Jasmine walked from her spot behind the tree timidly, towards them.

"Oh dear!" Lucy cried. She flung her arms around Jasmine as well, but recoiled when Jasmine's cold and wet skin touched her. "You're so _cold_! What's happened to you?"

"We fell from the cliff," Edmund said, "And Jasmine then fell into a stream. A rather deep stream, that I hadn't seen coming."

"Oh no..." Susan said, taking in Jasmine's dreary appearance with a grim frown. "Let's get you into something dry. Lucy, can you hand me my bag? Yes, thanks. Good thing we thought to bring along extra clothing from the Cair's ruins..." Susan's voice grew somewhat distant as she and Lucy escorted Jasmine to an area of the wood private from the campsite.

Edmund sank down next to Peter. "How have you all fared?"

"Better than you two," he replied, giving Ed a pointed look, "None of us nearly _drowned_."

Edmund furrowed his brows as the jibe stabbed an insult into him. "I pulled her out."

"Better late than never..."

Edmund felt his hand shaking and anger coursed through his veins, threatening to pour out upon Peter if he did not find any means of control soon. "I found something interesting," he said, eager to change the subject. "When we fell down the cliff, it seemed a new level of ground had just..._appeared_ since we had seen it earlier today. Have you any thoughts on that?"

"Actually, yes," Peter replied. "We found that route when Lucy was showing us the place she had seen Aslan before. She fell through it."

"I suppose she _wasn't_ seeing things then," Edmund murmured.

"It's a bit odd for Aslan to appear now rather than earlier when the Narnians needed him most, though," Peter replied, "Don't you think?"

"Maybe." In truth, Edmund found that he couldn't think lowly of the Lion at all. He had the utmost respect and faith for Aslan. He had taken the nasty little boy that Edmund had been upon his first entering into Narnia and turned him into a young man of chivalry, whom he could be proud to be. Aslan had done too much for Edmund to think any kind of negative about him.

"I've found some more wood," a gruff voice announced. Edmund looked up and saw Trumpkin approaching the campsite through a path between the trees. He dropped the fire wood from his arms and settled onto a spot on the ground before he even looked over in Edmund's direction. "Oh, so you've found us? I suppose it was that _girl _that set off the Telmarines in the first place..." He scoffed in obvious dislike, "Too much to hope that you've lost her, isn't it?"

A sudden surge of anger tore through Edmund, numbing any sensible bone in his body.

"_Yes_. She's here with us and she's not going _anywhere_ else," he replied through gritted teeth.

Trumpkin frowned at him. "What's got your knickers in a knot?"

However, before Edmund could reply, the sound of giggles and footsteps reached the men to suggest the return of the three girls.

"Thank you so much, your Majesty." Edmund's ears perked at this particular voice and he looked up when Jasmine entered the site with Susan and Lucy.

"Oh it was nothing," Susan replied, "I expected you were around my size, and we couldn't let you stay in those wet clothes. You would've caught a nasty cold!"

They all settled on a patch of forest floor by the fire. Edmund's eyes gazed towards Jasmines, and he felt almost hopeful. For what, he couldn't be sure. He spotted her look up and lock eyes with him for just the briefest of moments.

But then she was looking back down to the ground and shifting closer to Lucy, and farther from him.

He wasn't sure what bothered him most: the somewhat frightened look she wore when she saw him, or the fact that any of this bothered him _at all_.

And it was with a twinge of both pleasure and fret that he thought he might have discovered exactly what 'had his knickers in a knot.'


	9. Her Task and His Trial

**Chapter Nine: Her Task and His Trial **

The night was dark and the forest quiet. Jasmine stirred in her sleep as her mind crossed leagues and oceans, leaving her body to remain on the earthen bed of the campsite.

_A sudden rush of adrenaline filled her body and she opened her eyes to see that she was lying upon the ground. She lifted her head and looked around her. Everything in her line of sight was filled with such a natural glow. Flowers, trees, grass, dirt. All of the earth was so much more glorious in Narnia than on Telmarine turf and the appreciation she felt towards this beauty only emphasized her intense hatred for her homeland. _

_But instead of an anger towards her father, towards all that he stood for, she could only feel peace. Her instinct immediately told her that it was the atmosphere of this place. Narnia's nature was so beautiful, so entrancing...that it filled her with such a calming sensation. _

_Jasmine stood from her spot on the lush ground and advanced forward into the wood. All was silent except for the musical sound of a stream crossing paths with its bank somewhere to Jasmine's left side. She continued to move onward, never truly knowing what it was that she searched for but continuing along this path that lay before her nonetheless. _

_"Daughter."_

_The mighty voice surprised her and Jasmine jumped out of her skin when she heard the majestic growl behind the words. She turned and found herself face to face with a very large Lion. But this was not just any lion. Jasmine had heard all of the old tales, courtesy of Professor Cornelius, the former tutor of herself and her cousin Caspian, at the Telmarine castle. She knew this particular Lion to be Aslan, the great King of the Beasts and Son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea. _

_She turned frightened eyes upon the figure and was amazed by his presence. Her head bowed low before him and she fell to her knees before a single thought passed through her mind._

_"Forgive me, Aslan," she whispered. _

_"Rise, my Daughter," he said. Jasmine trembled as she raised her head and then she timidly rose to stand before the Lion. _

_"My Lord," she said carefully, "Might I ask where I have come to?" _

_"You are in My Country," Aslan responded. His muzzle moved in the air and indicated the forest around them. "This, is the portal between this world, and the world of those far from yourself." _

_"Why am I here?" she asked quickly. It had always been her belief that when one reached Aslan's Country, it was after death had stolen through their veins. _

_"I have sent for you," the Lion replied. "I have a task for you, dear one."_

_"A task, for me?" she asked. Jasmine wondered at this; why would Aslan choose her over the mighty Kings and Queens of Old for such a task as set by the Lion himself? _

_"Yes." The Lion pawed at the ground, making gentle noises against the grass. "You are to be a Guardian to the Kings and Queens, Daughter." _

_"A Guardian?" she questioned. She could barely protect herself from her own father, let alone be a Guardian over others who's lives were infinitely more precious than her own. Was this all a demented dream, set to mock her? Was this merely a figment of her imagination with the purpose to cut at her and bring her insecurities to the surface? _

_"You are to stay with them," Aslan continued. "Protect them with your life, child."_

_Of course. Jasmine was to be a shield from all other danger that came their way. That explained things much better--she was disposable; worthless. _

_Aslan seemed to know her very thoughts. "I have great things for your future," he told her. "Great things."_

_The sensible side of Jasmine fought to show her that this was not true; for no one such as her could ever have the potential for any greatness. But the Lion's voice...the authority with which Aslan spoke, it forced her to believe. _

_"I understand," she breathed. _

_"You will guard these Four," he continued. "You will watch over them." _

_She took a deep breath and accepted her fate. _

_"Yes, Aslan." _

_"You must promise me, Daughter. You will do all in your power to ensure that the Four reach their home in safety after their mission has been fulfilled." _

_"Yes, Aslan. I...promise." _

_"Good, my Daughter. Have faith. For you are a protected flower by my will and I would not give you a task to set you up for failure. Believe in yourself, believe in your faith, and you shall not fail." _

_"I will, Aslan," she whispered softly. "I promise." _

_The Lion opened it's jaws and a sudden wind--a sweet wind--splayed forth and engulfed her. She caught a last look at the mighty Lion before her lids fluttered closed; his dark eyes shone with promise. _

_---_

"Jasmine, wake up!" A gentle hand touched to Jasmine's shoulders and gave her a shake.

She opened her eyes and saw Susan's blurred face above her. It came into clearer focus and Jasmine propped herself up with her arms to appear more presentable before the Queen.

"What is it, your Majesty?" Jasmine asked, recognizing a certain panic in her eyes.

"Up, quickly!" Susan encouraged with a slight strain across her forehead; Jasmine noticed that she didn't even take the time to request that she use Susan's name, as the others usually did. "Peter and Lucy aren't here and we've got to look for them--Edmund believes that they've only just gone for a short walk, but we never can be too careful..."

Jasmine bolted up at once. Two lost monarchs would surely not please Aslan.

She saw that Trumpkin and Edmund stood just behind Susan, the latter watching her with a somewhat apprehensive look. Jasmine looked away, for she still never felt quite comfortable under the younger king's dark gaze. She followed Susan as she led the way down a path through the trees. Not long after hitting the trail, Jasmine began to hear a clashing of metal.

Susan stopped and turned to Edmund, her eyes widened. "Is that...?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. "Swords."

The group hastened to a faster pace and continued forward. It wasn't long before Lucy's small figure came into view. She was standing between two men, her arms held out as though to separate them. One was Peter, holding up a large rock poised for attack as he wore a hateful look upon his face, and the other was...

"Caspian!"

Jasmine could not help herself and surged forward to embrace her beloved cousin--all thoughts of her dream and of her new responsibility forgotten. "Oh how I've missed you!" she gushed.

He gave a deep chuckle and extracted himself from her grip. Her lips formed a sheepish grin.

"I've been looking for you," he said. "I only hoped that I would find you before the wretched Telmarine soldiers would."

"They weren't far off," she muttered darkly. "I barely escaped one encounter."

"_Barely?_--" Caspian's eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something more.

"_You're_ Prince Caspian?"

Caspian's mouth shut again and he and Jasmine both turned to see that Peter stared at Caspian skeptically.

"Yes," Caspian replied. "I am."

"Hmph." Peter gave a scoffing smirk.

Jasmine's brows furrowed and she frowned, shooting a look at Caspian. He shook his head, indicating that there was no use reprimanding his Highness.

"We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege," a voice arose to them. Jasmine looked around, but saw no one. She saw that Caspian's gaze was directed straight down and followed it to find a small mouse striding forward towards Peter.

"And you are?" Peter questioned, a boastful ring of authority in his tone.

"Oh, forgive me your Majesty!" The mouse swept his tiny sword to the side and bowed. "I am Sir Reepicheep, your Highness. Knight of Narnia. I have recently been at work securing weapons for your armies, sire."

The mouse Reepicheep went to far lengths to extend a respect that Jasmine felt Peter had done nothing to deserve. But she kept her tongue--he was under her care and not even an obnoxious king could sway her from the duty given by Aslan.

"Good," Peter replied. "Because I have a feeling that we're going to need every sword we can get."

"Then I'm sure you will be wanting yours back," Caspian said stiffly. He yanked a blade from the trunk of a nearby tree and held the hilt out to Peter.

Peter gave Caspian a dark look, but then took it with a murmured, "Thanks."

---

"Where have you been all this time?" Jasmine asked.

"I ran away, just as you did," Caspian replied. "When I learned of your brother's birth, I knew it was only a matter of time... I would not have made it out alive without Professor Cornelius though."

The two were walking among a group of the Narnian recruits that Caspian had called to arms. He had told them that he knew of a place to make plans for war and that he would take them there.

"I do hope he is all right," she said. "Will they find out that he helped you?"

"I don't know," he murmured. "We can only hope that the stars may watch over him within the walls of Miraz's dictatorship."

"Yes," she agreed quietly. She allowed a moment to pass before tilting her chin to look at his face. "What has happened to you since then?"

"I was found and taken in by a Badger called Trufflehunter and a Dwarf, Nikabrik," he replied. "And they told me about the future of all of Narnia."

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "The future of Narnia?"

Caspian heaved a sigh. "Yes. They seem to have the idea that _I_ am suppose to deliver Narnia from all of this chaos and restore peace to the lands. They see me as a _hero_."

Jasmine tilted her head to the side, a thoughtful expression on her face as she contemplated these words.

"You can't tell me you agree!" Caspian said. "How am I, a mere banished Prince, suppose to save an entire nation? I couldn't even protect my own cousin!"

"You've been there to protect me all these years," she amended.

"Not every time." His face was solemn as he gazed at her; there was an apology in his eyes that she did not want to see. He had always been the one to know her best and he showed this when he suddenly looked away. "I'm no hero, Jazz. I can't do this."

Jasmine curved her lips into a small smile and tilted her head to look up and over at him. "I have faith in you."

---

Edmund's disposition grew surlier and moodier as the day went by. He watched ahead of him as Jasmine conversed with Prince Caspian, her alleged _cousin_.

A giggle came from his side. "You might not want to look so angry all the time, Edmund. People might think you're likely to lash out at any given moment."

Edmund inwardly rolled his eyes. He felt that he_ might_ lash out at any moment. But that was stupidly rash! Something more likely of Peter, than Edmund--he was the one who always thought things through. But ever since he had met this girl, his tongue had been tied into a jumbled knot and his mind had been melted to ooze. He could not think straight anymore.

And for a girl! A girl that he had only just met two days ago! He didn't even know _why_. He only knew that her hair flowed in a silky blanket of black velvet over her shoulders and her eyes shone beautifully even without the help of laughter. He knew that he wanted nothing more than to ram his sword through Caspian right now, for all the attention that she was giving him.

And he felt utterly and completely absurd for thinking all of this.

"_Teenagers_," Lucy muttered. "So difficult..."

Edmund looked over to her and raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"You're acting so immature!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms through the air. "Why don't you just _tell_ Jasmine that you fancy her?"

"I don't!" Edmund spluttered quickly. His cheeks warmed a light blush and he resolutely looked away from Lucy.

"Uh huh..." she muttered with an eye roll. "So is it Caspian that you've been staring at this entire time? I suppose he is a bit of a looker, but I never would have thought him quite right for you, Ed..."

Edmund scowled under his breath. "Go away, Lucy."

She gave another giggle. "I'm only picking on you, Ed." She sent a wry glance back at Jasmine and Caspian and then patted Edmund's shoulder. "You'll see, soon enough. You'll see."

And then she flounced off to join Susan further up in the group.

But her words continued to claim his thoughts. Did he fancy Jasmine? She was very pretty for sure, beautiful even, but did he _fancy_ her?

With a huff of annoyance, Edmund secretly agreed with Lucy that teenagers were ridiculously difficult, particularly _himself_.

---

The march of the group faded onward into the coming of sundown before they suddenly stopped at the forested edge of the wood. Edmund looked ahead of them all--as he was much taller than most people, he could see clearly above most of the group--and he saw a clear, grassy plain stretched before them. Beyond that, stood a large pile of rock that seemed to form a hovel of sorts. He had never before seen anything quite like it in his travels of Narnia and wondered what it could be. But then the group began to walk again, and he followed the massive crowd leading the way in front of him.

Soon enough, they all reached the edge of this new place, where a stone flooring formed a square shape on the ground that continued into a stone path leading up to the structure. They all stopped at the square and there formed a line across. The Narnians all split on either sides to create a lining along the pathway while the four Pevensies as well as Jasmine and Caspian stood along the edge of the stone. Only after a short hesitation, Edmund squared his shoulders and took on the serious, placid look that he reserved for his position as King of Narnia. He and his siblings walked down the line and led the way as Caspian and Jasmine followed behind.

Edmund fought the urge to turn and look at her. Did his title truly form such a separation between himself and others? Between himself and a _certain_ other?

The inside of the stone place was dimly lit by torches that hung along the large, tall walls. Even more Narnians than had trekked across the forest filled the space, going to and fro with all manner of battle supplies: Edmund glimpsed swords, shields, armor, and much more. He stopped when Peter came to a halt and watched his brother, waiting for a further sign of action. Peter seemed just as much at a loss as Edmund.

"What is this place?" he asked, looking up and all around him. Edmund followed his gaze in attempt to find something familiar, but found no recognition until Jasmine and Caspian walked to the group.

His eyes instantly traveled over to her face but found that hers were diverted. He could not smother his disappointment and delayed in noticing when the others set off again, towards a dark crevice at the side of the main entrance. He followed immediately as Caspian took a torch as he passed and led the way. They walked through several passages, stopping on occasion. Lucy even spotted carvings and drawings on the cave-like walls. They all seemed to depict scenes of a younger Narnia; Edmund saw pictures showing of the Hundred Year Winter, the Four's rising to the thrones at castle Cair Paravel, and the years of their rule known as the Golden Age. His eyes rested on a particular picture of a faceless faun standing beside a tall lamp post, holding up what looked to be an umbrella. Inside of him, any courage that Edmund could have borne as a king fled from his heart and filled instead with a sadness, a foreboding. A regret.

He tore his eyes away from the carving and continued along the uneven path after the others. Before he knew it, the walls widened and they all entered into a large room with a high ceiling. All was dark and Edmund saw nothing of its details until Caspian's torch could be seen dipping down towards a cement opening that weaved around the room. The moment it touched, bright flames sparked to life and spread around the room, keeping to the inside of the basin.

Edmund stepped forward, after his siblings. And if at all possible, his heart sank lower.

For just before them all was the largest and most beautifully carved depiction yet--clearly, it had been a top priority and was given the most attention, time, and effort of all that they had seen. Aslan's flat stone figure seemed to breath life into it's soul and stare out at them with deep eyes though there was no doubt that it was only a drawing and could see nothing.

Only a drawing, but it affected Edmund so much. Those eyes had never held accusation--as he believed they should have, they never belittled him, and they never ever had shown anything but the utmost faith for him.

He did not deserve it.

The others all watched in awe, just as Edmund did. Lucy strode forward from the group and touched a stone piece in the middle of the room.

Edmund's stomach churned unpleasantly when he looked upon it. The stone that held Lucy's touch was a small table of sorts, with a crack along its middle. He knew it at once as the Stone Table--for Susan had told him the story amidst the Golden Age and he never would forget the tale, not for all of his years.

It was _the_ Stone Table. The very one that had changed his life, the one that had _saved_ his life.

His eyes rose to meet the stone ones of Aslan once more. What was the Lion trying to tell him? He stared into the eyes, hoping that this message would somehow become clear. But the murky waters of his future only grew darker and more cryptic.

"I think it's up to us now," Peter's voice said, clear above all of the silence.

Edmund shifted his head to look to his brother and found that he wore a determination on his face. Contemplating this new weight upon their shoulders, Edmund set his eyes back onto the stone depiction of Aslan's.

_What do you expect of me? I am only Edmund._


	10. At the Point of a Sword

**Chapter Ten: At the Point of a Sword**

"Ed, pay attention!" Peter barked.

"What?" Edmund swung his eyes back towards his older brother. Peter was red in the face and panting for breath--much like Edmund himself was--and he had lowered his sword to his side as he clutched his knee with his other hand for support.

"Have you been paying attention at _all_?" Peter asked.

Edmund blushed profusely and could not help but flicker his eyes back over to the area of the grassy plains where Jasmine and Caspian could be seen talking and laughing together. He fought back a growl in his throat and snapped his head back to his brother.

"Yes," he replied instantly.

"You just nearly decapitated me!" Peter bellowed. "If you _meant _to do that then please tell me what I did so that I can apologize before Su has to bury me."

"Sorry Pete," Edmund said, "I suppose I just get a little too into these training sessions."

"Don't worry," Peter told him, "It's a good thing I'm no novice or you surely _would_ have knocked my head off my shoulders though."

Edmund gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah," he said, "Maybe."

"Let's take a break," Peter continued, "I've nearly forgotten just how hot Narnian summers can get..."

Edmund agreed to this suggestion at once and the two sat on the grass, both breathing heavily from the heat and the exhilaration of their match.

As soon as he sat down, he immediately looked back over to the further side of the fields and his eyes fell on a young woman with long, flowing black hair. Each time he thought of it, every time the idea simply _imposed_ upon him, he could not help but wonder whether he _did_ fancy Jasmine. There was just something about this girl... She didn't giggle incessantly and annoyingly like the other girls that Edmund had seen before, she did not flatter her person or hold herself in a higher esteem than others, and she certainly was no coward in the face of difficulties. Each and every one of her qualities brought him closer to the idea first thought of by Lucy... Edmund fancied their newest companion, Jasmine.

"Ed, everything all right?" Peter asked.

"Hm?" Edmund looked back up and immediately turned pink. "Oh. No, nothing. Everything's just fine..."

"You've been awful quiet lately," Peter persisted.

_He chooses _now_ to play the big brother role?!_

"I'm fine, Pete," Edmund told him. "Really I am."

"Well look sharp," Peter said, glaring over his brother's shoulder. "Here comes the _Prince_."

Edmund turned his head so sharply that it ached his neck and he firstly came eye-to-eye with Jasmine as she followed Caspian down to the two Kings. As soon as he saw her, he felt a blush creeping up on him and looked away before she could notice

"Hello Edmund, Peter," Caspian greeted jovially upon reaching them.

"Caspian," Peter grunted.

"Hello," Edmund told him, hopeful to make up for his brother's rudeness. Peter wasn't _normally_ such a prig, but he went out of his way to be sometimes, it seemed.

"What would you say to a spar?" Caspian asked him. "It seems that we might as well make ourselves prepared, shouldn't we?"

Edmund looked at Peter and found him staring determinedly in another direction, clearing intent on ignoring Caspian. "Sure," he responded, turning back towards the Prince.

"Excellent," Caspian replied. "I've heard great things about the swordsmanship of King Edmund. I do hope not to be disappointed." The corners of his lips rose in a smile that seemed to challenge Edmund.

But Edmund wasn't in the mood to be overly friendly towards Caspian right now. Particularly when he'd stolen the company of Jasmine nearly all day. "I guess we'll just see," he muttered. He rose from his spot on the grass and went to a spot a fair ways away from where Caspian stood. Both unsheathed their swords, which glinted in the late day's rays of the sun and reflected back into their eyes, as they prepared for the match.

Caspian was the first to make his move. He took the offensive rather aggressively--something Edmund noticed that was ironically similar to Peter's fighting style--and brought his sword to swiftly clang against Edmund's as he barred it in front of his body just at the right moment. Edmund found that his mild annoyance towards Caspian suddenly turned to anger and he answered with several swift and hard blows of his own. And so the battle continued, both landing forceful strikes against the others sword and neither relenting.

It came to the point that Edmund was beginning to think it might be a draw, but then he looked back where he had been sitting with Peter and found his brother gone but saw Jasmine watching the spar with interest gleaming in her eyes.

He couldn't let her see him get beaten by Caspian--such a fool she might think he was! Edmund gritted his teeth and held his sword upright and steady as a rock before advancing on Caspian again. He threw his entire body into each and every swing of his sword and landed many hits. Within moments, he had the point of his sword to Caspian's throat and the man had dropped his own.

"I see that the tales are true," Caspian told him, looking down at Edmund's blade with a pleased eye. "Such a swordsman you are."

Edmund panted and glared from the sudden explosion of energy but drew his sword from Caspian's neck. "Thanks," he told him. Edmund's darkened eyes swung back over to Jasmine and saw that she was watching _him_ now, definitely him and not Caspian. But instead of the shining admiration that he had been expecting--even hoping for--her mouth was hanging slightly open and her eyes were wide with something that looked horribly like fear.

Edmund darted his eyes away from her as soon as he could and walked swiftly back in the direction of the How.

---

"Ed, what_ happened_?"

Susan plopped herself on the wooden bench that Edmund sat on, just next to him and stared at him with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, who sat opposite of his younger brother. "I didn't think I had done him _that_ much damage during our match..."

"No, not that," Susan told him quickly. She turned face back on Edmund again. "I have it from a centaur that you had a particularly tense training session with Caspian today. Is that true?"

"Possibly," Edmund said. "Why does it matter? He wanted to spar, so we sparred."

"The centaur mentioned that you looked rather frightening," Susan said. "What has he ever done to you?"

"Noth--"

"I'll tell you what he's done," Peter said, cutting through Edmund's sentence--though he did not mind and was quite fine with it. "He's a _Telmarine_, Su."

"Oh stop being ridiculous, Peter," Lucy said from his side, "It shouldn't matter that he's a Telmarine. Besides, that isn't what makes Edmund upset with him."

"So you _are_ upset with him?" Susan asked.

_Lucy! _Edmund growled in his throat and made a mental note to never ever let Lucy get into his head again.

Edmund shrugged. "He doesn't bother me any."

"Oh come now, Edmund," Lucy said with a cheerful smile. She turned to Susan. "He doesn't like Caspian because he doesn't get any attention from the _girls _like the Prince does."

_LUCY!_ Oh why, _why_ did Lucy have to be so perceptive?

"_Oh_," Susan said with a giggle. She looked back at Edmund and smiled. "That's so cute, Ed. I suppose it _is_ high time that you've started getting interested in girls. Are there any in particular that you have your eye on?"

In the face of this question, Edmund would have given anything to be at the end of his own sword just now.

"Not in particular," he replied, looking down to his food and busying himself with eating his dinner, hopeful to successfully evade the topic.

"_Jasmine_ is a very nice girl," Lucy said. "What do you think of her, Ed?"

Edmund looked back up and found Lucy innocently smiling back at him. A beatific smile like an angel, a devious mind like a demon.

"She's nice," he told her.

"She _is _very pretty," Peter said, "Even if she is a Telmarine..."

Susan rolled her eyes. "_Must_ you keep on with that?"

But Edmund jumped at the opportunity to turn the conversation away from him. "Looking for a Queen already?" Edmund taunted. "Haven't even been here a week yet..."

"No," Peter told him. He gave a smirk at Edmund. "Not _me_."

Edmund scowled at his brother and took to eating once more, intent on ignoring them completely this time.

---

After his dinner was done, Edmund wished to escape the endless taunts of his siblings and took to finding that escape outdoors. He came out of the How when the night was already coming upon them and he began to walk down to the fields, hoping to clear his head before bed.

As he walked, Edmund spotted a figure further out on the fields before the How, sitting upon the ground and watching the sun as it fell under the rolling hills. The figure was undeniably a woman with dark hair and pretty features. His stomach clenched and he felt a feeling in it. A...giddy, _whooping_ feeling.

_I have gone absolutely, completely, and utterly insane_. _That's it,_ Edmund said to himself, _I must be insane..._

But no matter his sanity or his lack thereof--which he was believing was more the case as each second passed--Edmund walked a few steps ahead of him. But he stopped; he hung back to watch the peaceful scene of a girl watching the setting sun. Nothing to intervene in her moment's quiet, just _her_.

The sun finally came to it's low position down to the crease in the world where the sky met its beginning on a pallet of green and the earth met its end at the rise of a blue expanse. Carefully, just ever so carefully, he loped forward until he was standing just behind her. And he only stood there. Just stood there and watched.

Jasmine was humming to herself and he could just make out her voice floating through the air's warm currents to his perking ears. Such a sweet melody indeed. He could listen to it forever and never go tired of this song that came from her lips. He just stood there for a time that even he didn't know--it could have been minutes, it could have been hours... Jasmine's humming came to an end much too soon for him. He smiled to himself and, before he could be caught, he walked back to the How and went inside. Thankfully, she did not see him at all.

That night, Edmund fell to sleep with the whispers of a dusk's song tickling at his ears. They sound caressed him gently and he wore such a smile that night as he drifted to sleep that not even the taunts of his siblings could dampen his spirits.


	11. On Fire

**Chapter Eleven: On Fire**

"We must strike them before they strike us!"

"That's all fine in theory, Reep, but we need an actual _plan_," Peter replied. "We can't just show up with an army and expect to win."

It was mid-day and Edmund and the others were inside the largest stone room in the How, attempting to think up a solution to their problems. So far they had had little luck and they were pressed for time, being unsure of the Telmarines' plan of action.

"Sire, think about it!" Reepicheep said, "If _we_ attack _them_, they wouldn't see it coming. We'd have the element of surprise on our side. It would be most unwise to allow them to take it up before we do."

"Yes," Peter said thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his hand. "You know, Reep, that could actually _work_..."

"But no one has ever taken that castle!" Caspian protested. He looked wildly from Reep to Peter, as though expecting to see some evidence of insanity.

Peter turned to look at him and his expression was slightly amused, as though Caspian were a mere child unsure of what he was talking of. "Well there's always a first time," he told him.

"Peter," Susan soothed, "It's actually not a bad idea to stay here... We could probably hold them off indefinitely with the right tactics."

"Su, this will more than likely come to war," Peter said, "And I'm not going to wait around for _them_ to attack _us_! I think we'll just have to go with Reep's plan--we'll attack their stronghold before they can get to us."

"That is a suicide mission!" Jasmine declared angrily. Edmund's eyebrows rose in surprise at her loud remark and angry face; he hadn't taken her for one to get riled too easily. "There have been many attempts on the Terlmarine fortress but _none_ have succeeded. We will have to stay here if we don't want to be massacred."

"But if the Telmarines are smart," Edmund said, "they'll just wait and starve us out." He noticed that Jasmine scowled at his words but she didn't say anything to him. He chuckled under his breath and smiled to himself at the sight.

"Personally," a squirrel called Pattertwig added, "I feel much safer underground." To this, many shouts of agreement followed and all Narnians present looked to Peter.

"We all feel safer here," Peter said to them. "But it's time for action. We must do something about this _now._"

---

And so, barely an hour later, Edmund found himself amidst a large crowd of Narnians, all heading in the same direction: towards the Telmarine castle. Peter had won out the argument and he, Edmund, Caspian, and Susan had developed a plan that even Caspian had admitted could possibly work with a slight bit of luck on their side. Edmund himself wasn't particularly happy about a siege on the Telmarine castle, with so many lives at stake, but he couldn't help but feel confident in their planning. The trek to the Telmarines was to take most of the day and into the evening, then they would put their plan into action in the middle of the night.

Right now he was reluctantly walking inbetween his older brother and the Prince, Caspian, feeling rather uncomfortable between the looks of hatred coming from both ends. In search of a distraction, he let his eyes wander in front of them and they firstly fell on his sister, Susan, and Jasmine, who was walking beside her.

Edmund arched his brows and growled deep in his throat. He and Peter had made sure that Lucy had stayed behind at the How with a few choice Narnians--wanting to keep her safely out of the battle. But, apparently, _Caspian_ did not feel the same way about _his_ family... Turning to the Prince, he asked, "Why did you bring your cousin, Caspian?"

Caspian too looked ahead at Susan and Jasmine at Edmund's question. "She wouldn't stay behind," he replied, "She wanted to help."

Edmund squinted his eyes and dropped his mouth, perplexed. "It's _helpful_ for her to get herself killed?"

"Well hopefully she won't get herself killed," he said, "I _have_ taught her a few things with a sword, you know."

"She's small, Caspian," Edmund told him, "It won't take much for a Telmarine soldier to simply crush her to death."

"Why do you _care_?" Peter asked suddenly.

Edmund's cheeks warmed and the flush reached to his ears. What might his brother say if he told him that he wanted to do anything in his power to protect a girl that he barely knew? A girl that he possibly even _fancied_?

But he didn't have to find out, for Caspian spoke before he could get his mouth to form any words. "Obviously he values human life," Caspian grunted.

"I value human life just as much as the next person!" Peter argued. "Just because I don't go around _hassling_ people about it..."

"Oh can you two _please_ just give it a rest..." Edmund sighed. Peter and Caspian had grown more irritable with each other through the day, especially during the planning period. It had taken all of Edmund's patience just to put up with it at all.

"I can," Caspian replied. "And if it worries you so than she can very well go along with you during the raid. What do you say to that?"

What did he say to that? Well he knew what his stomach said to that. Just the thought of it, of them two _alone_, sent a tingle through him and his stomach jumped into his throat at the prospect.

Edmund shrugged, trying very hard not to allow his blush to reach his cheeks. "Ask her," he said, "I don't mind."

Caspian looked ahead again and cupped his hands around his mouth, then called to Jasmine for her to come over to them.

"Yes, Caspian?" she asked, backtracking to meet them. Edmund sorely noticed that she only looked at her cousin and completely avoided both him and Peter.

"How would you feel about going with Edmund during the raid?" he asked, "That way you'll be out of the better part of the fighting and he can protect you."

Jasmine's face hollowed out and Edmund saw a flicker of dismay cross her eyes. Why was she so averted to the idea?

She looked back up at Caspian. "Couldn't I go with you?" she asked.

"Er--" Caspian looked sideways at Edmund (he determinedly looked the other way to seem as though it were no big deal to him). "--I suppose, if it's all right with Edmund?"

"Of course," Edmund told him, "It doesn't bother me any." Except, it _did_. Was he really so frightening to her?

"Well that's settled then," Caspian said, as Jasmine loped back up to meet with Susan. "Now you've got what you wanted Edmund!"

"Mhmm hmm."

---

The group had arrived in the forest that lay just before Miraz's castle just after the sun had set. They were all cast in a brilliant glow of orange and purple as the yellow orb drifted off into oblivion.

Edmund stood away from the others, leaning on a tree off to the side. He allowed his eyes to wander around the group, overseeing all things that were going on. Susan was speaking with a group of various Narnians, giving further instruction of archery, Peter was sparring with a centaur, and Caspian was discussing tactics with Reepicheep and one of the satyrs. Edmund sighed and looked up at the sky and closed his eyes as he allowed the warm breeze to drift past him. Then came a whiff of flowers.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Jasmine striding past him and further into a patch of trees near the campsite. He watched her go and then she was out of sight. Curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know what she was up to. He followed down the way she had gone, brushing low tree branches and the like out of his way as he went. And then suddenly he came upon a small patch that was cleared of trees that was deserted save for _her_.

He stepped out towards her and a twig crunched underfoot.

---

Jasmine leaned her back onto a tree behind her as she sat and she examined the flower in her hand. She was lifting her fingers to stroke the softness of its petals just as a _crack_ filled the air. She snapped her head up and caught sight of King Edmund. A flinch passed through her.

"Oh--yes, my King?" she asked faintly.

He didn't answer. He only continued to watch her, frowning. "Why are you so afraid of me?" he finally asked.

Jasmine froze. She quickly regained composure and managed to only look down towards the grass as she flicked the flower out of her hands, hoping that her embarrassed flush would not show itself to the King. "I'm not."

His feet came into her view and she lifted her chin up to find that he had walked up and now towered over her. "Yes," he said, eyeing her. He stooped down into a crouch and met her eye with a slight smirk. "I do believe you _are_."

"With all due respect, your Majesty, you do not know me," Jasmine replied. She darted her eyes to his brown ones but then immediately flickered them away. Why did it hurt her so much to do that--to look away? _Why_?

He fully sat down on the grass, beside her, and then leaned his hand to rest on the ground behind her. His arm just barely brushed past the material of her dress and she was sure that her breath caught. Her cheeks warmed and suddenly it seemed there wasn't enough air in the atmosphere. His touch...why did it make her feel so...on _fire_?

Jasmine gulped back a nervous breath and swiveled her eyes to the side to give him a curious look. He watched her intently, as though waiting for the moment when she'd look back at him. The fire, the burning... It dared her. She looked back up and locked eyes with the King again.

He leaned towards her--much too close for her liking, or not close enough?--and looked her straight in the eye. She could not so much as breathe or blink for the tension that hung there in the short space between them.

"Then _let_ me know you."

Jasmine gulped again and suddenly she didn't have the words to say. "I--I..." She gave up with talking, and merely stared. Who was the person within King Edmund the Just? Was he the tall, dark and brooding King that she had once seen him as, or was he the man that she saw now... Edmund Pevensie, a boy that could very well be snatching her affections from right under her nose...

Oh _no_. That's exactly what was happening. She had become so immersed in the silent soldier, the wise debater, and the mystery that was King Edmund. She may very well be taking _too_ much of a liking to this king...

Neither spoke in that silence, but Jasmine could have sworn that she saw more than words in the chestnut holds of his eyes that bored into hers. She was just so captivated, so entranced...that she didn't even notice when he began to drift closer, _closer_.

And then his lips were just before her own. Her eyebrows flew up into her hairline. She parted her own lips, regaining her lost breath and breathing in the smell of a Just King. It was intoxicating.

_Don't do anything rash, Jazz, _she reprimanded. She, kiss a _King of Narnia_? The idea of that was downright laughable. Jasmine frowned and turned her head.

"Jasmine," he whispered.

She looked back up at her name, just barely looking at those brown eyes that scorched into hers. But they were soft now. Just so very soft, that she couldn't look away. She could do nothing but just look into them.

He reached forward and put a finger on her hand. And then he had become King Edmund again as his eyes looked down and relinquished their hold over her. She flinched back and seized her hand away. But he grasped onto it and stroked along her knuckle with his thumb. Her breathing could have stopped, or accelerated so high that her head became light-headed. Either way, she knew that this feeling was not normal; she had never before felt something so exhilarating as the warm touch of the Just King...

"Don't be afraid," he whispered. He was so very close to her again. So close that she could even see small speckles of gold in his eyes.

But she only saw them for the briefest second before his lips came down on hers. Not roughly, but gently. Gently like the soft caresses of a flower's petals over her lips. And she kissed him back with just as much care, but also with a need, a _passion_. There was such a wild, frenzied _fire_ there.

Edmund placed a hand against the bark of the tree that her back leaned against and pressed himself up to her. But the closeness did not feel suffocating. It felt..._nice_.

_He doesn't want you. He could never want you. You're only a Telmarine, banished and rejected from your own land... If your own people wouldn't want you, why would a King of Narnia?_

With a pained gasping, Jasmine broke off from the King. Her eyes, she imagined, must have been wide and fearful when he looked at her. His eyebrows arched in confusion but she stood before he could barely open his mouth to speak.

"I must go," she told him quickly. And then she ran. She ran back to the others, hoping that the King would never come after her.


	12. Fated and Struck

**Chapter Twelve: Fated and Struck **

When Edmund kissed Jasmine, only one thought went through his head. _Why did I never do this before now...?_

Her lips were like silk over his and he just could not get enough of her in that moment. He came closer to her and deepened the kiss to tame the desires inside him just now.

It took him a split second to realize it when she had suddenly pulled away from him. Her eyes were watching him, widened and seemingly fearful. "I must go," she whispered.

"But--"

However, before he could get anything more than that one syllable out from his mouth, Jasmine was already running away from him and the arm that had been outstretched, holding her own before she had left, fell down to his side. What had he done wrong? He may have been a little…forward, but why did she _still_ seem so afraid? He hadn't done anything to hurt her...he could never hurt her…

It took Edmund ages to reach the site again. He was not eager at all to face anybody else now, but he came running when he heard Peter's shout for him.

"Yes?" he asked, panting, when he reached his older brother.

"_Where_ have you been?" Peter snapped, "You've got your part in this first!"

"I know," Edmund told him, "Sorry. I--er--lost track of time for a bit…"

"Well you had better get going," Peter said sternly, "The rest of us have all been waiting on _you_."

"I know, I know," Edmund replied quickly. "Look, I'm _really_ sorry, but I was just--"

"We don't have time for this," Peter interjected with a dismissing wave of his hand and turn of his head, "You've got to head off on Garryk _now_."

Edmund sighed. "Okay..."

Peter strode away from him before he could say anything else and Edmund, for the first time wishing for his brother's advice, went to the griffin Garryk to take flight for phase one of their plan.

---

Jasmine's stomach dropped back down to the ground when they took off into the air. She looked over the side and gazed down at the forest they had just left around the flapping of the griffon's wings. The sudden whooshing of the air caught at her and she grasped her arms around her cousin's torso quickly for fear of falling down to the earth that seemed as if it were quickly descending from under them as they rose higher and higher into the sky.

"Are you sure you'll be all right with this?" Caspian called back to her, apparently noticing her flinches.

"Yes!" she replied quickly, hoping to reassure him. She couldn't very well stay at the How when she was to protect the Pevensies, could she? No, she _had_ to do this.

The light shining off and on repeatedly from one of the Western towers signaled to them and they hurtled after the griffins that held Susan and Peter in their haste to reach the castle before any of the Telmarines could be alerted.

Jasmine watched Susan and Peter reach the castle before them and jump lightly off and her stomach churned when she realized that she'd have to jump too. When the moment came, she closed her eyes and fell from the griffon's back. Her landing was rough and her feet stumbled on the stone ground but Caspian kept her from falling.

"Hurry!" Peter called to them. Jasmine checked the holster on her hip for the sword that she had been given in preparation for the fight and sprinted after Caspian when she was reassured that she had it.

The four took down every guard that came their way until they reached a window that would take them directly into the main part of the castle. Jasmine slipped down the rope after Susan and Peter pulled them both inside. Jasmine looked around the room that they had come into and took in the massive amounts of scrolls and books lying haphazardly all around. She knew this place...

"I didn't realize that we came into _this_ window," she said softly.

"What is that?" Caspian asked.

"It's the professor's room," she told him, turning towards Caspian as he came up beside her, "Isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, beginning to look around for himself, "I think it _is_..."

"I wonder what happened to him," she added, frowning. From the looks of things, no one had been in this room for days and the professor's belongings were strewn all over in a slovenly mess that she knew he would never resort to.

"We have to find him," Caspian said quickly. Apparently he'd noticed this revelation too because he now looked worried as he watched the mess around the room. And a worrisome Caspian made Jasmine worried as well.

"No, we _have_ to stick to the plan," Peter objected.

"He saved my life!" Caspian hissed. "You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for him!"

"We can't allow others to die for a delay," Peter told him. "We'll have to leave him, Caspian. I'm sorry."

But he wasn't sorry. Jasmine didn't believe so, anyways. From what she had seen of the High King so far, she could believe that he was only in this for the _glory_ of it all. Of course, she was sure that he cared about his people, but he wasn't doing this only for the well-being of them, but for his own pride as well.

Jasmine saw Susan give Peter a curious look, as though surprised by his attitude. "Let them go," she said gently, "We can take care of Miraz just fine on our own."

"We'll be back in time for the gate anyways," Jasmine assured, shooting a grateful glance towards Susan. "We have to help him. He's done so much for us both and it's just not _right_ for us to leave him here."

"_Fine_," Peter snapped. "But you had both better be back in time..."

For once, Jasmine didn't care if he was High King. She glared at Peter and very nearly growled at him under her breath before turning her shoulder to follow Caspian out the room. "We _will_."

The two left as quickly as they could and ran down the halls, hardly worried of alerting anybody for they would surely discover the Narnian invasion soon enough anyhow.

"Where do you think he is?" Jasmine whispered.

"The dungeons probably," Caspian replied, "I can't think of any other place that they would take him to." He turned a corner and led her down a staircase that took the two into a very dark light. They slowed and Jasmine held one hand on Caspian's arm as she followed behind, her breath bated. All of a sudden, Caspian's shoulder tensed and his arm flicked out. The silver of his blade shown in the darkness as he swished it through the air. He stooped and there was the jingling sound of keys--Jasmine presumed that it was a guard that Caspian had attacked.

Finally it seemed they had reached the bottom for the landing evened out and Caspian strode forward with more haste, but soon stopped again. There was a very small opening in the stone wall that allowed a sliver of the moonlight to come into the dungeons and Jasmine saw bars just before Caspian. He fidgeted with the keys he'd taken barely minutes ago and the iron door creaked as he swung it open.

It was just barely light enough to see anything, but Jasmine heard the wheezy breathing of the professor and she knew that he must not be well. She knelt down to her knees beside the professor's sleeping figure and touched his arm.

He woke with a start and his whole body flinched as he let loose a yell.

"It's all right," she assured quickly, "It's us--Jasmine and Caspian."

His movement stopped and his breath grew deep. "_What_?"

"We're here to save you," Caspian told him as he stood by the door of the cell.

"I did not get you out of here just to come back and get captured as I was!" the professor stormed at Caspian in a croak of a voice.

"We're here to deal with Miraz anyways," Caspian hissed. "His reign _will_ end tonight."

"No," the professor wheezed, "No... do not underestimate Miraz as your father did, Caspian..."

Jasmine froze and her heart counted the slow-moving seconds of silence that passed. She had hoped that Caspian would never have to hear about this. Not ever. How would someone feel to know that the murderer of their father was the very man that they hated the most? Possibly a man who could kill them just as easily as they had killed their father...?

"My father?"

The professor didn't say anything, but Jasmine heard a grunt that gave her the impression that he nearly wished he hadn't mentioned it at all.

"_What_ about my father?" Caspian asked again, his voice raised and trembling.

"Don't worry," Jasmine whispered, "It's...in the past, Caspian. Miraz will pay for what he has done." Jasmine gritted her teeth as she thought of all the lives her father had ruined. She would make sure of that herself if she had to.

There was a banging against the stone walls and then a shuffling of feet.

Jasmine turned head and saw no other silhouette next to her any more. "Caspian!" she called. "Caspian, come back!" But she heard no footsteps returning and cursed under her breath.

The professor gave a very raspy cough and she turned her attention back on him. Staying in this infernal dungeon for who knows how long could not bode well for him, not well at all.

"Come on," she whispered gently. She tugged on the professor's arms until she pulled him up and held one of his arm's around her shoulder to support him. "Let's get you back to the others..."

The two began their climb up the steps and, after a long while of huffing and panting their way up, they made it back to the landing where they heard the roars and beginnings of a horrible foreboding. There was obviously a fight brewing below them and they were soon to be in the midst of it. The hurried on through the castle, thankfully meeting no one--Jasmine assumed that all forces had already been called down to the fight--and she was not surprised at the sight that met her eyes. But it was no less terrible.

Men and creature alike bore arms everywhere and were constantly clashing with their weaponry. Dead bodies littered the ground and Jasmine's stomach churned in disgust and pity at the sight--she had never liked war or battle at all.

Jasmine dodged the blows all over the place and took the professor over to Susan, who was exterminating a large berth in the field of Telmarine soldiers with her expertise with a bow and arrows in her hands.

Her eyes widened when she took in the sight of Jasmine and the professor--both were sure to be covered in the splattering of blood that was flying everywhere and Jasmine couldn't even begin to wonder how bad the professor looked for his suffering.

"What's happened here?" she asked.

"Could you take him?" Jasmine asked, nodding her head towards the professor, "He's terribly weak and we need to get him away from the fighting as soon as possible. I think that you would be much better for protection than I would be."

"Of course!" Susan told her. Jasmine smiled gratefully and released the professor to sit against a wall behind Susan and walked on, pleased that the Queen would certainly be able to fulfull the request. And now for Jasmine to fulfill _hers_.

She rushed headlong into the crowds, slaughtering the first Telmarines that she saw with several blows of her sword. Finally all of those years practicing and being beaten by Caspian would count for _something_.

All of a sudden, a shout through the fighting made Jasmine turn away from her latest prey.

"Ed--look out!"

Her head jerked up into the air and she caught sight of King Edmund up on a balcony of the castle, surrounded by several soldiers armed with crossbows. Her breath caught in her throat and her hand clutched her sword's hilt, trembling. He looked over at the soldiers when Peter called and then ran over to the door on his other side, just barely making it inside. Arrows flew in before he had shut it and she couldn't be sure if any had made their mark yet. But she _couldn't_let that happen. She saw the Telmarines pound on the door in fury and knew that there wasn't much time before they would knock it down. She also knew that the door had led King Edmund into a dead-end: a tower that only went _down_. He was trapped and she had to save him.

She ran through the crowds, flinging her sword this way and that as men came at her. She gasped in pain at the many slashes that cut into her arms, but pursued her task. It was a miracle when she saw the ruffle of feathers that flew past her. She eyed the griffin and called up to it, "Garryk!"

He turned head at the cry and dived down to meet her, toppling when blows came to him. Jasmine ran towards him faster and faster and took a great leap into the air that sent her flying. Garryk just only caught onto her shoulders with his talons and she released her held breath in relief.

"Hurry, to the towers, quick!" she called. Garryk flew above all of the Telmarines and the Narnians fighting below and circled up around the tower until they were high above. "There!" she cried, catching sight of King Edmund. Garryk flew down immediately and Jasmine braced against the whipping wind. She saw the wooden door give way and the Telmarine soldiers came running out to the king.

With heavy chills in her body, despite the warm night air, her hand reached for her sword, preparing for when they would swoop down and save the King. But she felt nothing at her waist--she must have dropped it somewhere along the way!

Jasmine's insides twisted with horror as the soldiers advanced upon King Edmund.

"Drop me."

"My lady, are you--"

"Drop me _now_!"

After a moment's hesitation, Garryk released Jasmine from his clutches and sent her hurtling down to the tower. She watched as the men prepared their crossbows and aimed them at the King. Even without a sword, she could not ignore her duty. She had to do this for Aslan...and for herself.

Jasmine came to a landing down on the tower and the impact shook her legs, as she miraculously landed on them. Shouts and cries came all around, but she ignored everyone. Especially Edmund's plea for her safety.

She stood, grimacing from the pain in her legs, and lunged forward to come between King Edmund and the men. The fateful pain in her side came quickly and piercingly. She clutched at it and could already feel the thick ooze of blood slipping through her fingers. A pair of arms caught her before she fell onto the stone ground and then she felt a weightless feeling that pitted her against her stomach and created a sickening elation.

Everything came to her in a blur now. There were murmurings in her air, a bird's cry, and then there was only a soft roar in Jasmine's ears. As she drifted off into a dreary darkness, only one thought ever crossed her mind.

_So long as he is safe..._


	13. In Her Blood

**Chapter Thirteen: In Her Blood**

_Come on, faster, faster._

Garryk seemed to sense Edmund's anxiety, or else the griffin was just making great haste for his own needs. But either way they began to fly over the castle faster than before and he was glad of it. One hand clung onto Garryk's feathery neck while the other clutched the bleeding body of Jasmine close to him. The arrow that had stuck her at the top of the tower was sticking out of her side at an awkward angle and he couldn't look at it or else his stomach would immediately drop down to the ground. His head spun with the feel of the sticky, dripping blood that slipped down her body and was now all over his hands and arms as he did everything that he could to stop the flow. He had her wound pressed up against his chest to apply as much pressure as he could while so high in the air, but it frightened him to think it might not be enough.

They flew over the castle, where the battle had occurred, and it was only now that he saw the worst of it. Dead bodies were lying sprawled all over the concrete floors of the castle's courtyard, both men and creature. Bloodshed was noticeable everywhere and he felt his face go white as he stared down at it all. And then he looked down at Jasmine, who had gone so pale that she looked nearly a ghost. What if she didn't make it? What if, because of him, she joined the many others that had died in this battle?

He clutched Garryk's feathers much harder than intended and stared out wildly, hoping to find something that could keep his mind from straying towards that possibility. He barely knew this girl, but...he just couldn't think about losing her now. He was certain that there was something between them--he didn't like to think of it as a barrier, though it could be--and he wanted to know her. _Really_ know her, without all the battle plans, the strategic meetings, and the fear that she so obviously harbored towards him.

But why, he continued to wonder, had she thrown herself between him and an arrow? If she was so afraid of him, why would she do that? It was hard for him to imagine even Susan or Lucy doing such a thing--he hoped that they wouldn't; it hurt to imagine little Lucy taking any kind of pain for her older brother--and they were his own sisters, while Jasmine was a girl that he had met only a few days ago. She was different, though. There was no doubt about that. Something was different about her that set her apart from other girls. And he wanted to know what it was. He couldn't believe that she was dead. It was just too much for him to think about. But the thought was always there, toying with his mind, as the blood continued to spill out on him, though in less increments than before.

He spotted horses galloping far down below him and Garryk followed them as they were most likely Peter, Susan, Caspian, and the others. Edmund's heart pulsated frantically with every flap of Garryk's wings and it seemed ages before the How finally came into view. The sun was nearly rising just as they approached, but he noticed that Jasmine's face didn't light up in the sunlight like it had before. It remained pale and lifeless.

When they came towards the others, he took her body in his arms and sprinted towards the others as best he could without moving her too much. Lucy and several Narnians came from the How to greet them and Peter and Caspian were shouting a row at each other when he met them. The yelling, the fighting, it was all too much. How could they even _think_ of blames right now while Jasmine could very well be dead? Edmund shuddered. _Best to not think about that..._

Only Susan noticed when Edmund came to them. He collapsed on his knees, his expression pained, and settled Jasmine's body down on his lap. His sister came forward and began to look at Jasmine's still and blood encrusted form with wide eyes and trembling lips. Edmund growled as Peter and Caspian continued to shout and looked up at them.

"_Shut UP_," he roared, "Stop fighting, both of you!"

It was only when he said this that the two turned to face him. And when they did, Peter's expression softened, if only slightly, and Caspian turned chalk-white at the sight. He hurried forward and crouched down beside Edmund and Susan, his mouth opening endlessly and his eyes staring, but he never said a word.

"Lucy," Susan choked, as a stray tear left her eyes, "Someone get Lucy, _now_."

"No need." Lucy hurried up to them, her eyes darting all around and her face just as frantic as the others. She fell to her knees in front of Edmund and unscrewed the lid to her cordial before holding it just above Jasmine's lips. She allowed a few drops to slip and fall into Jasmine's open mouth and then pulled her arm back as they all watched anxiously.

"Nothing's happening," Edmund whispered in a raspy voice, "Lu, give her more!"

"It won't make a difference," she replied quietly, watching Jasmine. "No difference, Ed."

"It has to!" he cried. "She can't die because of _me_."

"No," Caspian muttered. "No, _look_!" He pointed towards her chest that was rising and falling more deeply than before. Jasmine's eyes opened a crack and then fluttered closed again as she lolled her head over on Edmund's lap with the soft breaths of sleep floating from her mouth. He cracked a thin smile at this. _Thank the Lion, she's alive! _

Lucy released a sigh. "She'll be fine," she said, smiling as well. "You'd better take her inside, Ed. She should rest."

Edmund nodded, as his throat was fairly choked, and stood, scooping Jasmine into his arms as he did so. The others split a path down to the How and he walked inside with her in his arms.

---

Jasmine woke up feeling surprisingly--but pleasantly--warm. She made to shift around, feeling that she was lying down, and groaned from the aching that came from her side. Then she remembered the recent events. There had been arrows, flying at Edmund. And she had jumped in the way to spare him the hits.

"I wouldn't move for a while now."

She knew that deep, soft voice... Jasmine's eyes flew open in a panic and she found herself staring into a brown abyss. Edmund.

Frankly, she was surprised. What was he doing there? And what had happened? Obviously, the battle was over, but...what had come of it?

She tore her eyes from them, rather reluctantly, and looked around her. From the way it seemed, she was--though she hardly wanted to think about it--apparently lying halfway in Edmund's lap while he sat on the floor, leaning his back against a wall.

"Sorry," she blurted, quickly, as she struggled to sit up. When she tried, she only fell back against his chest and then felt the rapid rises and falls of laughter coursing through his body.

"I told you," he teased.

Blushing profusely--for it was very undignified to find herself in such a position; with a _king_, especially!--she looked back at him and her eyes adjusted in the darkness of the room to see that he was covered in a strong-smelling liquid. _Blood_.

She released a gasp of surprise and, without thinking at all, reached her hand up to rest on his chest, where the most of the blood was caked onto him. She took it away with trembling fingers and found the blood smeared on her palm. She looked at it with wide and frightened eyes before snapping her eyes back to his. "What _happened_ to you?" she demanded. She looked all around then, searching for some kind of a wound and inwardly cursed at herself--_you were supposed to _save _him!_

His face went hard. "_You're_ asking _me_?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, far too exasperated now to address him with the respect she ought to. "There's blood all over you! Of _course_ I'm asking!"

He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "Why do you care anyhow?"

"Why do I _care_? Because I'd rather you didn't _die_, you stubborn arse!" As soon as she'd said it, Jasmine's eyes grew round, she gasped, and then she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, your Majesty!" she gushed. "I--I should not have said that..."

But despite her apology, he still looked moody. "That's _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Jasmine's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had apologized and she truly never meant to say it--though a small part of her _did_ still think him a stubborn arse, at times...

"I did not mean it, your Majesty, I swear," she replied, solemnly.

"_Stop_," he growled lowly. "Stop _doing_ that."

Now she was confused even further. "Doing what? You said--"

He seized her wrists and pulled her to look at him. She stared back at his burning irises, too shocked and frightened for words.

"_Stop_ talking to me like I'm better than you."

Jasmine fumbled her tongue over her response. Out of all the things she would have thought to hear him say, she had not expected this. "But--but you _are_," she spluttered.

"_No_," he growled again. "I've done things I'm not proud of. I've been a traitor, Jasmine. A treasonous _scoundrel_."

She sat in silence, only barely afraid at the way his voice shook and his fists clenched. Finally, he spoke again.

"Why did you do it?"

Jasmine faltered and watched him peculiarly. "Do what?"

He lifted his moody face to look at her again. "You know bloody well _what_," he mumbled.

As serious as he seemed, she still had to force herself not to giggle in light of the sullen expression on his face, like a school boy who had just been told off sweets.

But then she remembered his question, and she wasn't all-too sure she wanted to answer. Why _had _she done it? The first reason that came to mind was the fact of Aslan's task laid out for her. And the other... Well, she hardly wanted to admit it to herself, but her insides shied away from any idea of this King in such pain. She had not wanted it to happen, task or not. She'd grown...too fond of him. She may have grown to _like_ this King, much more than she should.

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

Edmund looked up and over at her, his eyes sharp. "_You_ didn't want _me_ to get hurt?" he asked. "What about you? Do you think I _enjoyed_ watching you fall? Do you think I _enjoyed_ the feeling of blood seeping out of you in my arms? _Do you think I wanted you to get hurt any more than you wanted me to?_"

Flabbergasted, Jasmine looked away with her mouth dropped open. He _cared_ for her. He cared for her enough to be hurt when seeing her in such pain... What could that possibly mean? Did he feel for her as she very may feel for him?

Feeling his eyes on her, she looked back up. "No," she finally said.

"Good," he snapped, "Because I did _not_ enjoy it, thank you very much. Not at all."

"It wasn't fatal," she told him, in her defense, before she could help herself.

He sighed again and looked her right in the eye. "I don't care. You should never have put yourself in danger simply for _my_ safety."

She couldn't bear it anymore. She _had_ to know. "Why do you care so much?" she asked.

He hung his head and then looked back up at her. "Why do I care so much?" he said, in a whisper. "Because I--"

Just when he opened his mouth to continue his sentence, there was a loud rumble and the floor even shook ever so slightly. With widened eyes, Jasmine turned on him, all thoughts of her question and his answer forgotten. "_What_ was that?"

He tensed against her and then gently lifted her body from his lap, gingerly around the area that she had been shot in, then set her back down on the ground. "Stay here," he warned, standing and side-stepping around her as her limp form leaned against the wall.

"What?" she asked, "No, what if something bad--"

"Stay _here_," he repeated, turning back and kneeling before her. "You've already nearly died for me," he whispered. "I won't let it happen again."

She opened her mouth to respond, but he placed a finger over it. "No arguments," he said. "Please, just this once, listen to me like I actually _am_ royalty to be obeyed." He left her watching his retreating back with arched brows and angry eyes. But then they softened when the red caught in the light towards the end of the stone room, near the entrance.

"Wait!" she called.

He turned, just in front of the door. "What?"

"You're o--okay?" she asked, hesitantly. "That's...a lot of blood."

He gave her a polite smirk and looked down at himself. "This is _your_ blood," he replied, before walking out the door.

_Thank goodness_, she could not help but think, after he left. _As long as it wasn't _his_ blood..._

She was left with a dilemma now, that was for sure. Of all the things that had happened between her and the King lately, it seemed there was some sort of affection growing between them--she did not even want to consider the word _love_ at this point, however. No, no, it was not quite there yet. But there _was_ something, even she could not deny that.

Jasmine touched at her lips with her fingers, only just then remembering that they had been kissed--rather passionately, she could not help but remember--by King Edmund earlier. The memory of it all sent a whooping sensation through her and a gleeful giggle escaped her lips. Her eyes widened in shock. Why on earth was she acting this way? She had kissed a man before.

_Never like _that_, even you cannot deny that it was the most pleasurable thing a man has ever given you... _

_Oh shut up, you. It was a spur of the moment. He cares not further for me other than a companion. A simple companion._

_A love is a life-long companion..._

_Did you just say the word _love_? No, now you've definitely got the wrong girl... I cannot possibly be in love with the Just King of Narnia. And the notion that he would be in "love" with me is simply laughable. _

_You're in denial. They do often say that love wears thin the last bits of sanity in a person._

_No, _you're_ insane. King Edmund, in love with _me_? That is simply outrageous. Inconceivable. Unbelievable. And the furthers thing from truth that I have ever heard!_

_You're the one talking to yourself. Therein lies the first showing of your sanity slipping away from you. Funny how it should happen just when you're falling for the handsome King..._

Jasmine shook her head wearily. Perhaps she _was_ going insane, talking to herself like this.

_You never denied that you loved him._

She scowled at herself and firmly sealed shut the part of her mind that continued to ramble with the impossible. There was no way that she was in love with him. None.

Jasmine stood--with difficulty, as her side still proved to ache a bit, though there was no longer a wound--and made her way to the door, though she knew she was directly disobeying _him_.

There was no way, she continued to chant in her mind, as she went.

...

Was there?


	14. Ecstasy and Extermination

**Chapter Fourteen: Ecstasy and Extermination **

Edmund ran as swiftly as possible down the long stone corridor. Su had told him that Caspian had disappeared with Nikabrik shortly after they had arrived from the raid and they hadn't seen him since. Peter apparently believed something must have gone wrong and was now several paces ahead of Edmund as the two raced down with Lucy to the chambers, the only place they had not looked for him as of yet.

There was a tense feeling hanging in the air, as though something was about to go really _wrong_.

Panting from the rapid burst of running, Lucy came up beside Edmund. "Is she okay?" she rasped to him in her ragged breathing. He nodded to her, knowing that she was referring to Jasmine. He _hoped_ she was okay, at any rate. She had seemed fine when she'd woken up...

The three siblings reared down into the lower chambers of the How and they were met with an uproar. A hag and a werewolf sprang forward, the dwarf Nikabrik at their heels. Edmund bared his sword at the wolf and jumped into action, swinging his blade at the creature repeatedly as it dodged with inhuman speed and strength. The wolf's claws slashed at his arms and it growled something fierce as Edmund came running at it again and again. One particularly forceful swing of the wolf's clawed fists sent him tumbling over backwards on his back. Quickly, as the wolf was still coming towards him, he jumped up from the ground and raised his sword just in time to meet the wolf's claws. He leaped backwards and spun as the wolf came rearing towards him, then gave one last mighty swipe at the wolf that sent its limp body tumbling to the ground as blood trickled onto the stone floor from its slain torso.

When Edmund looked up again, his breath caught. There was Caspian lying on the floor, looking as though he'd just been pushed, and Peter was standing over him. But what Edmund became more focused on was the wall of _ice_ standing before the two. Just as he feared, there was a woman in the ice. A terribly familiar woman of impeccable pristine complexion and a layer of perfection over her frozen form. But her eyes came alive and pierced into him a fear that he thought had gone away so many years before.

He realized then that he had to do _something_. Caspian was clearly unable to move from his spot and Peter was in a similar situation as he now stared up at the Witch in awe. He was so very close to her...if he made one wrong move... Edmund knew better than anybody what _one_ wrong move could do to someone.

He ran over to the ice and sprinted behind the wall. He could see the back of the woman on the other side and he looked around frantically, searching for some way to send her back to the hell where she belonged, _away_ from him and unable to touch him ever again. He wasn't entirely sure whether it would do enough damage as he would have liked, but he lifted his sword up and thrust it through the ice and into the woman's body with as much strength as he could muster. He braced himself then, for the ice began to crumble and fell down from its place until there was but a large empty space where the wall of cold used to be.

Panting, he lowered his sword and looked out at Peter. He didn't mean to say it. It just...slipped out.

"I know. You had it sorted."

Then, his emotions too crazed, he fled the room. He swept down the corridor and past Lucy, who gave him a round-eyed look of worry, which he merely waved off, and then he came out of the How into the grounds. The sweet air filled his lungs and he all of a sudden felt better with its warmth on him as opposed to the Witch's sinister cold. He sat down on the ground and leaned back on his palm as he took in the calming scents of the nature all around him.

"Your Majesty?"

An involuntary flinch pulsed through Edmund's body. He turned his head just so slightly at the feather-light voice but he could not bring himself to look her in the eye. Turning to face forward again, he finally spoke:

"Call me Edmund."

There was the sound of swishing grass and then he felt someone sitting down beside him. "Why?"

He shook his head absently. "I want you to call me Edmund. Not highness, not majesty, not king. Just _Ed_."

There was a small silence. "Are you sure that is what you wish?"

"Absolutely."

"All right," she replied, and her voice was warmer, "Edmund."

He smiled and thought that it was finally right, so very right, to hear his _name_ come from her mouth.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly. "You seem upset."

"I'm fine," he replied wearily with a shake of his head.

"You don't _look_ fine..."

He turned to his side and raised an eyebrow but caught her staring back at him with only concern. He sighed. "It's nothing I can't handle."

She looked away from him, apparently finally having hit a dead-end with her comments.

"You don't have to handle it alone," she said quietly, a few moments later. Perhaps she _hadn't_ hit a dead-end.

"Don't worry about it." It was enough that she had saved his life. Would he have to rely on her for everything? It should be _him_ helping _her_, not the other way around.

"You can tell me," she whispered.

He sighed and looked at her. She wore a face that was so innocent and it nearly invited him to tell her _everything_.

Edmund shook his head wearily. "I've done some bad things before. Very bad things."

"I'm sure they can't be all _that_ bad..."

He raised an eyebrow but avoided look in her eyes. "I traded my family in for sweets and the promise of power a few years back. I would say that's pretty bad, wouldn't you?"

"You were younger then," she soothed.

"I was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong!" he snapped, finally looking at her, "I _knew_ it was wrong! But I did it anyways."

"You've changed," she persisted. "You've changed into something _good_."

"Oh, yeah? Well, if I'm so good then how come you're so afraid of me?"

"I didn't--I--I'm not..."

"Yes. You are. I've seen it ever since you first met me. You're afraid. And I want to know _why_."

She stayed quiet for a long while but the look in her eyes waned his impatience.

"I don't want you under the impression that I would ever _hurt_ you," he added softly. "I never would."

There was another silence, during which he just looked at her. Hesitantly, she moved her face to look up at him too.

"I'm sorry, you know," she told him. "About before. I should have..._understood_ better."

He did not fail to notice that she hadn't answered his question. But she had slyly brought _it_ up, which unfortunately caught him off guard.

"It's not your fault," he told her quickly, reddening. He had wished that they would not have to speak about his hasty kiss from before the raid. It was bad enough that she had ran and avoided him after that, but now they had to _talk_ about it. "I shouldn't have acted so rashly. The blame is mine."

She shook her head. "You're a person with feelings and I didn't acknowledge that. I've only ever seen you as a king. _That_ was my fault."

He looked up at her peculiarly. What was she _saying_? Oh, this would be the one time that he would like for Lucy to come up and interrupt. He could really use a translator...

"Still yet. I should never have made you feel...obligated," he said cautiously.

"_You_ never made me feel obligated. That was another work of my own."

He stared side-ways at her with a frown. How was he ever supposed to know what _that_ meant? Some girl out there should pity all the men of the world and write a dictionary for women and their cryptic words. Perhaps a how-to guide on replying as well. A formula of developing a reply that would not result in getting his arse kicked or ignored would help very much right now.

He chewed on his lip as he attempted to find the words for an appropriate response, but then he remembered their conversation from earlier and pondered about something. "Jasmine, why did you take the arrow for me? You never did say anything."

In the late afternoon sun, her blush was clearly evident. He couldn't help blushing as well and found it hard to suppress the pleased grin that snuck up on him. She shuffled over and turned her head away from him. "Because," she replied, in the smallest voice he had ever heard her use.

He raised an eyebrow, half annoyed by her skirting the subject and half amused at how she evaded him with it as though she had a secret. "Because _why_?"

"No reason in particular," she said hastily. "It does not matter."

"What if I think it matters?"

She paused before turning her head to look at him and she did so apprehensively. But then she looked away again without saying anything.

He squinted his eyes and frowned in displeasure. He had only just got her talking today; he would not let that go so easily. He came closer to her and moved to put himself right in front of her.

"_Why would you put your life on the line for me?_"

She blinked back in surprise. "I have no--no idea what you're talking about, your Majesty."

He growled and sat back, away from her. "_Fine_," he snapped. "But if you didn't want to say anything, why did you even bother to come out here after me?"

"I--I was worried."

He gave a scoffing snort and looked away, shaking his head. He could not take this anymore. After a moment, he put his head in his hands and just sat there in his frustration.

"I don't understand. You are the _only one_ who calls me by my title after I've _repeatedly_ asked you to just call me Ed. You are the _only one_ that looks at me with fear even though I have _never_ purposely hurt you." He looked up with his hands trembling and looked in her direction. "I just want to know _why_. Please... If I'm not doing something right, if I ever--er--offend you or anything, please tell me. I'd rather like to know what it is that bothers you."

"You're a king," she whispered. "To be frank, you're a king in everything you do: the way you walk, the things you say, the way you say them. I could never act so familiar towards one so great, if you'll permit me to say so." After saying this all, very quickly, she gave him a shifty glance.

He quirked his eyebrows. "This is about _respect_? Why can't you just simply call me by my name? I would not think it disrespectful at all. Perhaps _more_ so, in all actuality."

Jasmine almost looked offended. "I call you by your rightful title because I should have no right to call you by anything as personal as your _name_. It would not be right of me."

He looked up at her curiously, his face still downcast in distress. "And what if I _want_ you to?"

She looked away. "I would wonder why."

"You want to know why?" He sat up again and moved closer to her and looked right at her face though she averted her eyes from him. "It's because maybe I just happen to _care_ about you. Maybe I just--maybe I just _like_ you."

She shook her head in response. "That's impossible," she breathed.

"Is it? Is it so _impossible_ to think that a king of Narnia cares about you? Do you really think so little of yourself?"

"Your Majesty, I--"

Her words were lost as he fiercely covered over her mouth with his and gave her a rough kiss. He pulled back away from her several moments later with his breathing shallow and his eyebrows arched in anger. "How do you feel? How does that really, truly make you _feel_?"

She didn't respond. Jasmine only stared mutely at the outer edges of the forest across the How and her fists shook on the ground. And, admittedly, he was incredibly disappointed by the silence. The rejection was like a knife in his chest.

He was not going to get anything more from this conversation besides _more_ fear from her. He stood up, defeated, and turned away.

"Do you want to know what I feel?" he asked quietly, suddenly stopping there. "I feel dizzy. I feel those blasted butterflies that won't leave me alone. I feel pleasure. I feel ecstasy. I feel like I'm on cloud nine. I feel like anything at all could happen to me and _I wouldn't care about any of it so long as that was what I used my dying breath for._"

He looked back at her for a moment but she still didn't say anything, though he saw her eyes grow very big and round and her whole body trembled.

The pit of his stomach dropped and he was like a dead man walking. It hurt for her not to say _anything_. He started walking again, away from her and back to the How.

All of a sudden, she cried, "Edmund!"

He turned back to her, surprised that she had finally used his name and excited that she was calling him back. But then his excitement left him as he realized it was not to answer him. He watched her scramble to her feet and point towards the forest as she backed away from it with fearful eyes. Legions of soldiers were coming towards them from it. They were all clad in dark armor with weaponry and shields in the likeness of a deadly night sky's black abyss.

Heart pounding, he went forward and took her around the wrist before pulling her along with him in his run back to the How. The Telmarines had come back to finish the job that they had started at the raid. This was no longer war. The Telmarines wanted them gone far more than that. It was _extermination_.


	15. Me Too

**Chapter Fifteen: Me Too **

"Are they really going to fight?"

Caspian hesitated for a moment when he met her anxious eyes. "Yes," he finally said.

Jasmine's eyes fell to her lap. "Do you think Peter can do it? Miraz is...well, _you_ know how he is..."

Caspian winced. "Yes, I do. But...I think Peter can make it. He's rather a good swordsman when it comes down to it."

She shivered. "So is Miraz."

Caspian was quiet and didn't reply. She knew that he didn't want to dwell too much on the coming fight. So much was weighing on it and so much could go wrong with the slightest mistake. She looked up and cast her gaze around the How's grounds. They unexpectedly found a figure walking across it, accompanied by two Narnians on both sides.

"Where is he _going_?" she asked quickly, turning her head towards Caspian with wide eyes.

Caspian looked up and saw what she was talking about. "Oh, Edmund? He'll be fine. He's just going to make the proposition to Miraz."

Jasmine tensed and suddenly she felt ill. "Why does _he_ have to go? Surely someone else could?"

"He's already going." He looked over at her and smirked. "Why do you care so much anyways?"

She turned pink. "I just don't think it's such a good idea for him to go to Miraz all on his own."

"And would that have something do with your little outings with him? Hmm?"

Her mouth fell open in an 'o' shape and she stared at him with a deep crimson on her face. "Er...what?"

"You know," he said conversationally, "Before the raid, when the two of you--"

"Shut _up_," she hissed, automatically thrusting a hand over his mouth. Her eyes looked wildly around them as though expecting to see someone around that was listening on.

He chuckled and his hot breath tickled over her palm before she took it away, scowling. Despite her face, he continued to laugh for several moments before finally calming down.

"So, how was it, Jazz?"

She gave him a sour look and narrowed her eyes warningly.

"Oh come on, you can tell _me_," he coaxed. "I've known you since you were _born_, for crying out loud."

She huffed a deep sigh with a moody disposition. "It was _fine_, okay?"

"Just fine?" he asked, smirking, "I daresay you're not telling me everything."

"Oh? Well if we're hear to talk, then what's got you and Peter so riled up? You two have been at each other's throats since we came upon you."

"Nothing," he shrugged, "We've learned to...look past our differences."

"I see... So now you're harassing me for your entertainment, then?"

"Well it is very amusing." He flashed her a taunting smile. "Besides, I may have to end up protecting your honor."

"My _honor_? What on earth are you going on about my _honor_ for?"

"Well. He _is _a teenage boy..."

Jasmine groaned. She did _not_ want to talk about this... "Oh give it up, Caspian. You've got nothing to worry about anyways, all right?"

He furrowed his brows. "Why not?"

"Because--because he and I--we--we're _not_..." She broke off, unable to say anything more, and looked at him with a strangled expression of frustration and possibly even a little bit of vulnerability.

He raised his eyebrows. "Er...why not?"

If she weren't so wrought with all sorts of emotion at the time, she would have laughed for the look on his face. Clearly he wasn't comfortable with talking about it in a _serious_ manner.

Jasmine sighed. "Because...he's a king..." It felt like a long silence passed between him before either of them said anything. She forced herself to finally look up and she found Caspian looking at her as though bewildered.

"Jazz...do you really believe that?" he asked, quietly.

"What are you talking about? Of course I believe it. In his eyes, I'm a representation of the country that utterly destroyed his own. Why on earth would he ever care about _me_?"

Caspian looked away from her and shook his head. "Jasmine, why _wouldn't_ he care about you? _Obviously_, he does or else he wouldn't have kissed you. And did you _see_ him when he brought you back from the raid?"

"No. If you remember correctly, I was bleeding quite a lot you know. That _usually _draws someones attention away from everybody else..."

He cocked his head to the side and sighed as he gave her a stern look, saying that it was clearly not the time for sarcasm. "I know that. I was being rhetorical, thank you... Anyways. He looked like he was about to pass out, himself. Wouldn't hear a word of Lucy's when she said the cordial might be too late. _Very_ worried, if you ask me."

"Well, I would admittedly be worried too if someone happened to be dying right in front of me...Especially if I knew them. May not very well _like_ them much, but--"

"Are you listening to me at _all_?" Caspian snapped, his tone showing that he was becoming annoyed.

"Yes. You just said that he was worried and I said--"

She stopped when she saw the look on his face. "Okay, okay," she said, "Sorry. I just don't really feel like talking about it much."

"Well I say you need to because you've got the most _absurd_ idea in your head."

"Who are you to tell me it's absurd?" she asked, "Been having a lovely chat with him, have you?"

"No, but I'm not an idiot. Take it from me, someone who understands the inner workings of a boy's mind, he _fancies_ you."

"So?"

"So?! Do _you_ fancy him?"

"..."

"Jasmine!"

"I'm sorry!" She turned to look at him, her mind whipping from it's reverie. "I _told_ you I didn't want to talk about this right now."

"..."

"What?" she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, do you?"

"_Ugh_." Jasmine sighed in annoyance and laid back on the grass to stare up at the sky so she didn't have to look at Caspian's overly curious face. "I don't _know_. I barely know him."

"Well he apparently knows enough about _you_ to have fancies. It's just a simple question, Jasmine."

She turned her face on him and rolled her eyes. "It's not simple. He's a king and I'm a bloody runaway princess. Not even a princess. More like...a court jester..."

"A court jester?"

"You know what I mean. The point remains that nothing can happen between us. He may fancy me now, but wait until he gets to know me..."

Caspian sighed and she watched him lean back until he was lying on the ground next to her. He shifted his head to look at her. "Do you really think so little of yourself? You say this as if there's something _wrong_ with you."

She couldn't help but snort with a bitter laugh. "Oh no. Nothing wrong at all with the banished daughter of a bloody tyrant. That's _perfectly _normal."

"It's not your fault that he's...well, that he's evil. Besides, Edmund already knows that and he _still_ fancies you. Obviously, it doesn't matter to him. So why should it matter to you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, paused, and shut it again. Moments later, she lay her downcast eyes on the sky again and sighed. "I don't know."

---

"Caspian, could I interest you in a quick spar?"

"Sorry, I'm seeing Lucy and Susan off."

Jasmine stopped short and her sword suddenly hung limp in her hand. "Oh? Where are they going? The battle is starting soon, is it not?"

"They're going for help," he replied shortly, avoiding her eyes.

"Caspian... You'd best look out for them. Miraz won't stop just because they're women."

He halted in his tracks and sighed. He turned his eyes on her and they studied her face. "I know."

She gave a meager grin, suddenly very aware that he was looking at her with concern. And it made her feel self-conscious and uncomfortable.

"Er--I'm going out for a quick practice run," she said, awkwardly, as she looked around at everything but him. "Do watch over those two, will you?"

"Of course. And Jasmine..."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder again.

"Be careful. We wouldn't want any more near-death experiences, now would we?" He gave her a small, joking grin.

"I will," she promised, returning it, before she turned again to head out of the How. She brandished her sword and pointed it out in front of her before going through swift drills and raking it all through the air. The two parties had agreed on total surrender to the victor of the one-on-one fight, but no one believed that the Telmarines would keep their word, least of all her. It was just best to be prepared.

"You might try tucking your elbow in more."

Jasmine suddenly stopped, the hairs on her neck pricking, and she lowered her sword before turning around. "Pardon?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Edmund strolled forward towards her until they were a mere foot away from one another. "You might try tucking your elbow in a bit more," he said, nodding towards her arm. "It would help, trust me."

"Er..." She looked down at her elbow and then back up at him. He grinned innocently back and she had to suppress the urge to laugh wildly at the sight. "All right, then," she replied, quietly. She brandished her sword again, conscious of the fact that she was now being watched by a king--not to mention a swordsman that was much more skilled than she--and attempted to follow through her drills again while following his advice.

"Better," he said, once she finished and looked shyly at him for approval, "But you're still sticking it out a bit more than you ought. Here--" He came over to her and touched a light hand on her arm to lift her sword and thrust it into the air while his other hand went to her elbow and forced it closer to her side. "See? Like this. That'll help, I promise."

She lifted her eyes to look at him and stared for a moment, in a bit of a trance-like state of shock from his abrupt closeness. In that moment, she was sure there was more to them than acquantinces, no matter how much she wouldn't want to admit such a thing to Caspian.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He seemed to have found a grip on the awkward feeling of the situation because his cheeks took on a pinkish hue and his eyes widened just the smallest bit when he looked back at her. "My...pleasure..." he said.

A tingling flew up her arm from her elbow and she looked down to find his hand was still curled around it. He followed her gaze and quickly let go. She couldn't deny to herself that she felt at least a little disappointed when he did.

"Sorry." He stepped back away from her. "I suppose I should just leave you alone now, shouldn't I?"

She didn't say anything, only continued to watch him, unsure of what she should do at this point.

"Well, er...bye, then," he said awkwardly as his face reddened considerably. He turned on his heel to leave at the same moment it seemed Jasmine had regained her voice.

"Wait," she blurted.

He turned again and hesitantly raised a confused eyebrow. "Yes?"

She looked all around her as words frantically flitted through her head, none seeming to be the right thing.

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly and suddenly.

He tipped his head, looking confused. "For what?" he asked, "You've done nothing to me."

But the look that his eyes gave her was enough to tell her that every word of that was a lie. "I'm sorry," she repeated, putting meaning behind the words this time. She lowered her sword fully and slipped it into the scabbard that hung on the holster around her waist. "I didn't mean to... I--I should have acted more _considerate_ before."

His eyes sifted away from her and darted all around everywhere else. He couldn't stand to look at her for hurt, most likely. The guilt weighed on her.

"It's not your fault," he said softly, turning to leave again.

She waited. Her throat was stuck and words momentarily left them. She waited for him to turn back around but he never did.

"I feel it."

The seemingly undetectable words had left her mouth before she knew that it had been her who had spoken. She spoke again, more clearly and loud enough for him to hear, as he was several paces from her.

"I feel it, Edmund."

It happened very slowly, so very slowly. He stopped in his tracks after she spoke, his shoulders falling rigidly. Then he revolved on the spot, slowly, until he faced her again.

"What?"

She took a breath and forced her frantic heart's beating to take second on her mind. Jasmine took a daring step forward, and then another, and another, until she was standing right in front of him. His eyes followed her and watched peculiarly.

"I feel it, too," she whispered. "You told me how you felt. I feel the same things in me, right now."

He faltered. "I said...I said that I felt those butterflies..."

She breathed an escaping breath. "Me too."

"I feel...dizzy," he added, his eyes glazing.

Jasmine's mind wiped blank and the whole world blurred around her. He was the only clear thing in existence. "Me too," she whispered.

"I feel like...I feel like I want to be with you...so much..."

She stepped one inch closer, risking everything that she had in this. She tilted her chin up to look him full in the face. His breaths puffed onto her skin and tickled at her face.

"Me too," she breathed, feeling nearly faint.

He didn't speak again. He didn't need to. Edmund tilted his head to the side, watching her for a moment, before he lowered his face to hers. His lips came just before hers and they only just barely grazed. She parted her lips, breathing in his warm, inviting scent, and allowed the moment to overtake her.

Horses whinnied and shouts jeered.

Jasmine's eyes snapped open again and her clouded mind was shot through. She turned her head and felt Edmund's lips land on her cheek instead of their intended destination. The soft feel of it all was just barely registered in her mind as she watched the legions of soldiers troop towards the How.

"What is it?" he whispered into her ear, apparently having not noticed the Telmarines' arrival yet.

"The Telmarines..." she said, slipping her hand down to cover his. She pulled him along with her, back to the How, all the while staring at his confused eyes. "They're here. They're ready to fight..."


	16. I Won't Let You Down

**Chapter Sixteen: I Won't Let You Down **

"Are you _sure_, Peter? You don't have to do this, you know."

Peter grimaced and turned to face his younger brother. "I'll be_ fine_, Ed."

"He's right though," Jasmine piped up, looking hopeful, "You don't have to fight him, Peter. Somebody else--"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "And who else do you think should do it, then?"

"I--uh--well--"

Jasmine stopped and looked down at the ground, unable to think of anyone else. She knew of nobody else who's skills with a sword could match that of Miraz, except Caspian and Edmund. And if she was being honest with herself, she'd rather not have to watch either of those two in battle with her father. Not that she was too thrilled at the prospect of watching Peter do battle with him either. He _had_ admittedly grown up a bit and could prove to be a lot kinder on occasion than he had been when they'd first met.

"Exactly," Peter said to her stutters. "There's no one else to do it but me. I _have_ to."

"Actually, _I_--"

"_No_, Ed!" Peter growled back, before Edmund could finish his sentence. For a moment he stopped and just stared at Peter, frowning slightly, while Peter's face was reddened in anger.

"It's all right," Jasmine told him quietly, when Peter walked on ahead of them.

"I worry, though," Edmund replied. "What if something _bad_ happens?"

_You mean like me failing Aslan's task to protect you and your siblings?_

"Nothing bad will happen," she replied, hesitantly. "I...promise."

"Hm..." Edmund didn't look thoroughly convinced as his jaw tightened but he didn't protest either. Suddenly nervous about the coming events, Jasmine didn't say anything more and walked silently by his side as the two went out to the How's lawn to receive Miraz and his men with Peter and Caspian in the lead.

Jasmine met the bright sun with a mixture of discomfort and fear. The day looked very beautiful with the fiery orb's rays casting light everywhere and the trees' leaves swaying in the slight breeze in the distance but her stomach retained a feeling of churning and jumbled up contents. She was extremely fretful as she followed behind Peter, Caspian, and Edmund who all wore hardened faces that wouldn't portray any emotions. She was sure that her worry and fear was impeccably clear on her own face right now. She felt her teeth nibble on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from shouting out any more warning to Peter as he continued past Edmund and Caspian, who both stopped, and stepped onto a stone dais to face her father, Miraz.

Unsurprisingly, he smirked at Peter in complete arrogance when the two met atop the stone platform. "There's still enough time to surrender."

Peter kept his face calm despite Miraz's sneers--a feat that Jasmine had to admit was quite mature and regal of him--and gripped his hilt in his hand to draw it close to his body as his other hand wavered about his helm.

"Well then feel free," he replied, in a calm yet unrelenting voice. Jasmine could barely hear from where she stood with Edmund and Caspian. She watched Peter pull his helm completely over his face for protection and then the two began their fight with vicious strikes from both sides that clattered and rang throughout the How's lawn.

The battle and its outcome worried her and so she allowed her eyes to waver along the grounds although they always swiveled back to the fight for a few seconds when she heard a harsh yell or the sound of iron clashing particularly forcefully. While doing this, she happened to notice the group of fidgeting soldiers that stood in a line near the back. She squinted her eyes and watched as one of them came around to a smaller group off to the side of the rest and then they all hauled into the trees with their horses galloping quickly.

And then she remembered that Susan and Lucy had both gone into the forest. With only Lucy's dagger and Susan's bow for protection.

Her eyes widened with panic and she turned rapidly to find both Edmund and Caspian turning to look at her with questioning glances. She ignored them and looked straight at Caspian. "Those soldiers!" she hissed, "They've gone into the woods--where Susan and Lucy went to!"

It didn't take anything else to achieve her purpose. Caspian gave her one hardened look before turning his eyes on the forest. When he saw her to be right, he took off immediately and procured a horse from the crowd of Narnians behind them before riding off into the forest. Thankfully the rest of the Telmarine army was far from where he entered into the forest from and they were too captivated by the duel to notice his absence.

Jasmine turned her attention back to the battle between Peter and Miraz and immediately wished she hadn't. Both were fighting feircely with all their strength and had resolved to crude tactics as they repeatedly lost their weapons to gravity and other demands. Like such, Peter had such received a harsh blow to his hand and his sword had been flung from his grasp but he quickly dodged Miraz's oncoming attack and smoothly leapt out of the way to catch a hold of his blade once more. And then they were at it again; the clangs, crashes, and screeches of their swords colliding rang in Jasmine's head something terrible and she flinched at every daunting sound that filled the air.

Several long, agonizingly slow minutes passed. Jasmine wasn't sure if it had been merely minutes or hours. Edmund's solid presence told her only minutes had passed--for surely he would have been more panicky if his brother had been at battle for _hours_--but the frantic and loud beating of her heart told her that no matter the seconds, minutes or hours, it was all much too long for her. She had never been particularly close to Peter but the though of his possible death--and even worse, at the hands of her own flesh and blood--was enough to make her feel ill of it all. She was also fretful of the consequences if she were to fail Aslan's task for her. But there was nothing she could do for now; if she were to call it off, there would be war. And so many more would die...

She did feel quite reassured in that Peter proved to be an excellent and skilled swordsman and was hopeful in that he might stand a very good chance against Miraz. She was more worried about Caspian, Susan, and Lucy just then, actually. She kept looking to the trees, expecting to see them riding out at anytime, unscathed and safe. But it took much longer than she expected and she was beginning to worry.

Finally, a horse came running from the trees and she could see Caspian and Susan both riding it. Relief came to her but then it all washed away again when she noticed that Lucy was not there. Edmund seemed to have noticed as well, for his shoulders seemed to slump when he saw them and his jaw fell slack. When the two neared on their steed, Peter and Miraz were circling each other nimbly and both looked exhausted. An intermission for rest was decided upon and Peter came off of the dias, towards us, looking at Caspian and Susan with shock and worry all over his red face.

"Where--where's _Lucy_?" he choked out hoarsely.

"She got through," Susan assured quickly, then glanced up at Caspian as she added, "With a little help..."

Peter's eyes softened from the madness that he must have been nearing and he looked over at Caspian with a look that resembled gratitude and Jasmine felt a rush of warmth and sympathy for him, having seen that he had truly matured over the past few days from the arrogant person she had first met.

"Thanks," he muttered, looking Caspian square in the eye. The latter nodded in return and they seemed to share a non-verbal conversation and it appeared that their differences truly had been settled and were no longer an issue to worry of.

Peter then sat down in his fatigue and as he looked up at his brother, Jasmine saw helplessness across his features for the first time. She tried to wander behind the brothers, give them their moment, but she heard the tid bits of their conversation anyways.

_'I wonder what happens...at home...if you die here...'_

Jasmine watched in concern as Edmund immediately popped Peter's dislocated shoulder back into place and couldn't help but wonder at this quarry herself.

_Well,_ she thought, _let's try not to find out, Peter..._

Much earlier than she would have liked, the battle resumed again. Peter and Miraz both egotistically refused their helmets (Jasmine couldn't help but wonder if all men were so prideful but then she looked at Edmund and was glad to admit to herself that perhaps the world had hope for some of them after all). This time, she could see the sanguinary clear in their tensed facial muscles and their eyes as they struck at each other over and over. It truly was a fight to the death and the imposing truth of it all scared Jasmine.

For a time, it could not be said who was likely to survive. Peter had his well-muscled, young, and fit body on his side and was much quicker and durable than Miraz was in his older age. However, the latter had more years of experience at his hands and matched even Peter's highly impressive skills. To all spectators, it seemed that no one would ever victor over the other.

Until Miraz lost his sword and had been brought to his knees by Peter. Jasmine was completely surprised; her eyes had been too slow to follow all the events at once and she was genuinely shocked to find them both fighting evenly one moment and then Peter towering over Miraz's pitiful position the next.

The elder of the two looked up at Peter's young face with a dare in his dark eyes. It was so provoking and yet...so deserving...Jasmine wondered why Peter hadn't done it yet. She watched as the two exchanged a few words and then her eyebrows flew into her hairline when Peter turned on his heel to step off of the dais. But then she looked over his shoulder and saw Miraz's hands going for Peter's fallen sword...

Without thinking of anything, Jasmine sprinted onto the stone platform, Caspian and Edmund's shouts of 'Peter, watch out!' drowned out by cries of calling her back. But she couldn't go back now. She flung herself between the two before Peter could do anything to stop her and Miraz held the blade up to meet her.

But before it ever pierced her, he stopped.

A low cackle issued from his mouth and he turned his bloody face on her as he panted from the fight. "Ah, isn't it..."--inhale--"my..."--exhale--"daughter..."

Her mouth twisted into a snarl as she looked back at him. "Not anymore. You're _no_ father of mine!"

Miraz sneered at her gleefully and raised the blade as he slowly rose to his feet. "Well then," he whispered, "_This_ shouldn't break your heart too terribly." His arm that held the sword trembled and then he quickly slashed it through the air, aimed towards her stomach.

Jasmine closed her eyes as soon as she saw his intent, unwilling to watch as her life was taken by one of the very people who'd given it to her. _I've done it, Aslan... I've saved your king. Just let me die in peace now...no pain...please no pain... _

But the pain never did come. Instead of the sword's point, Jasmine felt a hand at her wrist and then the wind whooshed past her as she was pulled backwards. There was a slow moment of silence and then the crowd was hushed. It had been hushed before, but now the silence that echoed in the place was quite profound.

She finally found the courage to open her eyes and she saw that she'd been pulled behind Peter and that the sword Miraz had just to threaten her with was now in Peter's hand, droplets of blood glistening at its tip. She looked down with wide and round eyes to see Miraz on the ground, clutching his arm as blood soaked his chain mail and dripped onto the stone from the wound.

Just in front of her, Jasmine could almost _feel_the angry heat radiating from Peter. And to her surprise, she had never felt so respectful towards him. She had never seen a true king in Peter Pevensie before. Because only a true king would put himself in harm's way to save her when she was a spawn of the enemy. It was mere seconds later after the whole thing happened that Caspian and Edmund were both up there with them, right next to Jasmine, and the three of them watched as Peter and Miraz spoke:

"Go on, then," Miraz whispered to him, a certain mischeivous glint in his eyes. "Kill me. You know I deserve it...you know how much you _want_ to...just do it..."

"It's not mine to take," he growled back. With that said, he turned around to face her and immediately looked away when he saw her face. But not before she could catch in his eyes the sight of pain, remorse...gratitude... He extended his arm to Caspian and the sword with it. The latter looked up at Peter's face with a serious look and a doubtful refusal.

"Take it," Peter whispered.

Caspian looked down at the sword and then at Miraz. Inexplicable anger crossed over his face and he gripped the hilt before walking up to stand between Jasmine and Miraz again.

"Maybe you _do_have what it takes to be a Telmarine king," Miraz breathed as he looked up at Caspian and stared in a mixture of awe and suppressed fear. "A _great_ king."

His hand shook at the sword's hilt and it lowered itself more and more by the second and the blade neared Miraz's neck...

Unable to watch the scene unfold any longer, Jasmine closed her eyes and waited for the deafening thud that was sure to follow. She was so close...she would probably be able to feel the blood seeping along the ground beneath her feet... The thought dashed her mind with a touch of nausea and she shivered with discomfort.

And then there was no thud, but a scraping sound of iron on stone instead. Hesitantly, Jasmine lifted one lid and saw Caspian's body shaking. In front of him, the sword was protuding from a crack in the stone dais, hilt-side up, and Miraz was staring at him, shock evident only in his beady eyes.

"Not one like you," Caspian replied quietly. "I will _never_ be like you, I swear it. You can have your life, but I'm giving Narnia back their kingdom!"

As his voice rose and fell with different levels of anger, Jasmine watched him with round eyes, almost afraid that Miraz had received such a powerful reaction from him. He turned around and she looked up at his face to ask a silent question. He nodded his response, which she knew to take as such that he was fine now, and then two went off the stone dais with the others.

Edmund looked over at Caspian and Peter once they stepped off. He took a quick glance in the general direction of the Telmarines and then back at the two standing before him. "Do either of you expect them to keep their word?"

_No._

Thankfully, Caspian mimicked Jasmine's inner response aloud with a growling negation. "No, I don't. They won't stop simply for an agreement. They've broken endless promises to get where they are today and they don't mind the injustice of it at all. They'll do anything for power."

"Anything," Jasmine reiterated under her breath.

Suddenly, a fierce cry filled the air. The four of them spun on their heels to look at the commotion of the group on the stone platform and they saw Miraz's limp body in the arms of Sopespian. A red arrow was protruding from his back; all four of them recognized it at once and knew that it was one of Susan's.

"They've shot him!" Sopespian cried out to the Telmarines. "They've shot our king! They've broken our treaty!"

Jasmine looked wildly at Edmund. "Why would Susan do that?!"

"She didn't," he remarked quietly, his dark eyes scouring the layout in front of him. "Susan couldn't possibly have hit him in that exact spot from her position."

She looked back towards the area where Susan stood atop the How's rocky exterior with Trumpkin and others bearing bows and arrows and saw that he was right.

"That doesn't surprise me," Caspian commented lowly. "They'll make it out to seem like they're in the right for attacking us."

"Well then," Peter spoke up, his eyes blazing as he looked out at the Telmarines, "if they want a fight, let's give them such."

---

Their plan had worked. Edmund and Caspian had both banded together with their thoughts of how they might meet the Telmarine army and hope to escape the battle with less casualties than they had accumulated at the raid. It all went smoothly and the Telmarine army was stumped at the large hole that had been made in the lawn of the How. The archers had strung and released a flurry of arrows that rose in the air and struck out at the soldiers with incredible precision.

But now the real battle had begun. Edmund was all over the field, slashing his swords in every which direction where he saw an enemy or the black plating of the Telmarines' armor. He could see Peter and Susan not far from him, battling Telmarines with all their strength as well as he, but he couldn't catch a glimpse of Jasmine. This worried him because he had never seen the full extent of her capability in battle and could not know if she was just as well of as Susan and could hold her own. He looked around the battle field at the closest proximity his eyes could meet but didn't see her at all. With any luck, she was either away from the fighting or Caspian was with her for protection.

As the battle went on, he found that he couldn't see where Caspian was either. The mystery of it all was eating away at him and he made a path across the battlefields as he cut down any and every Telmarine in his path. He came close to the How by this tactic and briefly saw Jasmine's hair stream in the air as she whipped to stab a soldier when he came at her. He couldn't help but grin and swell with pride when he saw that she was a very able fighter for being a woman.

However, the soldier she had just stabbed came to his feet again and he headed back towards her. Meanwhile, Jasmine had her back turned to said soldier and would undoubtedly be caught unawares when he attacked.

Edmund sprang into action as soon as he noticed the danger and ended his current duel with a soldier by way of a swipe at their throat before he ran to her aid. The Telmarine hadn't seen him coming and Edmund was able to disable him quickly with another stab through a small part of his body that was free of chain mail. The man fell and Edmund turned immediately to be sure that he looked out for any oncoming soldiers and he found himself face to face with Jasmine. For a moment they just stared at one another, both breathing hard. But then Jasmine flung her sword arm out and made contact with a Telmarine coming up behind Edmund and stopped him in his tracks.

"Thanks," he breathed, grinning slightly.

She gave him a small smile back with a bit of a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not a problem, _Ed_."

At the sound of his actual name, his face split into a broad smile and he opened his mouth to make a reply but the earth beneath him trembled and they both fell on their backs.

"What was that?" she asked breathlessly, sounding as though the wind had been knocked from her.

"I dunno," Edmund choked back as he scurried to get up. He stood on his feet and offered a hand to her before pulling her up to stand beside him. And then they both looked out on the battlefield to see that the trees had joined in the fight and Narnia was prevailing much more so than before with their help.

"_Trees_," Jasmine breathed.

"They're here to fight," Edmund agreed. "But...that means...Lucy found _him_."

"What?" she asked.

"C'mon!" he exclaimed, ignoring her question, as he began to run with his hand pulling hers along as she followed.


	17. If Only

**Chapter Seventeen: If Only **

Lucy's quest to find Aslan had turned out to be a success as the Telmarines—and the Narnians, chasing in pursuit of the former—had been met by the Lion as he stood at the end of the bridge crossing over the River Rush with her. The Telmarines had no chance against Aslan and they had been defeated and apprehended quite easily after he had shown up in the midst of the battle.

Afterwards, rousing cries of celebration and shouts of excitement for the coming coronation of Caspian could be heard as the Narnians (and the few Telmarines that had decided to befriend the Narnians) took their place in Telmar, as Cair Paravel was in dire need of repair before any inhabitants went to the castle. However, Jasmine's spirit did not partake in this joy as she kept recalling back to what Aslan had told her when he had taken her aside after knighting Caspian on the banks of the river.

_'Do not forget this, child…they still _must_ go back home…'_

Jasmine knew that Aslan was, of course, talking of the four Pevensies. This included Edmund, the mysterious king who she had come to know well and like…a lot. She often felt like an outcast in the few days that followed the Telmarines' defeat, as all the people around her were so joyous while she was filled to bursting with melancholy. She wasn't even all-too sure why this was. She just knew that the idea of the Pevensies—particularly Edmund, for some reason—going away was truly upsetting. It was even worse when she considered the added thought that she might _never_ see any of them again. Though she did not know them all as well as someone like Caspian, she knew that she would miss Lucy's bright and infectious smile, Susan's caring and generous nature, and even Peter's protective and majestic presence. She knew that she would miss all of them, but she would miss Edmund most of all.

She knew that she would long to see him again the very moment that he left her. She knew that she would never—_could_ never—care about anyone else quite like she cared for him. She knew that…it would tear her heart to pieces to see the back of him and never hold the hope of seeing him coming to her again.

And all this worried her; for she had only ever known people to feel something like this when…well, when they were in love. And surely she could not be in love with Edmund Pevensie.

Not even a little bit…not even at all.

But every single time she told herself this, there was always that little voice in the back of her mind, taunting her.

_Liar._

---

That night, a ball was to be held in honor of the newly coronated King Caspian—who had come to the throne earlier that day—and Edmund Pevensie was a nervous wreck while attempting to maintain a calm facade. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that it didn't faze Peter because the older of the two came to visit the younger in his room a few minutes before the four siblings were to all go down to the ball room. Edmund knew that he was in for it when Peter stepped through the door—after being invited in, of course—and looked at Edmund with his placid _kingly_ look before saying:

"Ed, I think that you and I should talk."

Edmund's face froze and he looked down as his fingers fumbled to finish the last two buttons on his tunic and then he finally looked back up at Peter. "Er, what about?"

"Well…about you." Peter strode forward into the room, looking around at everything but Edmund.

"And what about me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as brisk as possible. Though on the inside, he was frantically guessing at what Peter might be thinking.

"Ed, I know that you and Jasmine have gotten…close."

Oh no, not _that_. Anything but this… Of all the times Edmund might have asked for Peter's brotherly advice in the field of women, _now_ was certainly not the preferred time that he would have chosen.

"Er, yeah. We're friends now, I suppose," Edmund replied carefully.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Just friends?" he asked, quietly.

Edmund could tell that Peter wasn't trying to make him feel uncomfortable but he still found himself blushing and avoiding his older brother's gaze anyways. "I don't know…" he mumbled. "Why?"

"Because, Ed, you know that we aren't from Narnia. Last time, we didn't have any warning before we went back. It just happened. What if…"

Edmund knew exactly what Peter had been about to say.

_What if it happens again?_

"Don't worry, Pete," Edmund replied, "I know that."

"I know you do," Peter amended quickly. "But…"

Edmund hesitantly lifted his eyes as he waited for Peter to finish and he found the latter staring at him with a pitying expression.

"I just don't want you to get _hurt_, Ed" he replied, quietly.

---

"Pigging out again, Ed? _That's _attractive…"

Grumbling, Edmund turned away from the banquet table in the ballroom and caught sight of Lucy looking over him skeptically.

He swallowed the food that was in his mouth and then shot her a moody look. "Why should I _care_?"

Lucy turned her head towards the dance floor and smirked. "Oh, I think you care," she replied daintily.

Edmund followed her gaze and scowled when he saw Caspian dancing with Jasmine, both laughing and smiling in time to the music. He turned back to his food again.

"What's wrong?" Lucy teased, "You mad that Caspian beat you to it?"

"Go _away_, Lucy," he snapped.

"It's all right," she told him brusquely, "You can admit it. Be a man and own up to it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about…"

Lucy sighed dramatically. "Do I have to spell it out for you? It's _obvious_, Ed!"

"Mhm, sure it is."

Lucy smirked sourly by his side. "Then I suppose you won't mind me saying amongst _all these witnesses_ that you _fancy_ Jas—"

Edmund covered over her mouth just in time. "Stop _talking_," he hissed.

He released her and she only rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a baby," she replied. "Everybody knows, anyway. Susan. Peter. _Everybody_."

"Susan and Peter are everybody now, are they?"

"Oh for goodness sake, even _Reep_ noticed," she said, ignoring his comment save for another eye roll.

"Lucy," he sighed, turning to face her again, "What is it that you want from me? A confession?"

"As much as I would love to hear you tell me that I'm right, I'd rather help you out," she told him. She raised her eyes up and down. "And believe me, you _do_ need my help."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Why? It's not as if you can change me into Peter or anything…"

"I _would_ have more to work with…"

Edmund growled at her.

"I'm only kidding, Ed!" she replied with a giggle. She stood up on her toes—even then she barely reached his shoulder—and stretched an arm up to his hair and began to smooth it out.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"Not quite," she replied. With a cheeky grin, she added, "You've also got some powder on your lip. What exactly have you been eating? It looks like you've grown some sort of mustache made of snow…"

He quickly wiped it off as his ears reddened. "Did I get it?"

Lucy giggled. "Yes, you got it. But just let me…" She licked her finger and then reached up again to his hair. He raised his eyes and could just barely see her dabbing at a peice of hair that apparently would not do her bidding.

"Oh well," she scowled to it, letting down again. "I suppose it gives you character."

"Thanks," he muttered dryly.

"Don't worry," she said. "You _are_ actually quite handsome, not that I'd like to go around saying that..."

He chuckled. "Well—er—thanks…I think."

"Oh look!" she squealed. "Here's your chance—good luck!" She scurried down the table to watch from an appropriate distance as Edmund turned around and saw that the dance had just ended and some people were coming off of the floor; Jasmine was among them.

He could almost _feel _Lucy's giggling gaze as Jasmine walked over to him, stood by his side, and got herself a drink. He looked over at Lucy and saw her staring at him with wide, bulging eyes, as if to say, _'Come on, now! She's __right there__, you idiot!'_

He looked back at her and found himself blushing as his eyes roamed her deep burgundy dress and beautifully flushed face. "Er…are you…having fun?" he asked.

"Oh yes!" she cried jovially, apparently not noticing his stares and reddening cheeks. "I've never been to a ball before!"

"Really? That seems a little surprising. Why not?"

She gave a half-hearted shrug. "My fath—Miraz—never let me attend one at the castle. And I was _never_ brave enough to sneak down to one."

He growled under his breath and suddenly it felt like it wasn't enough that Miraz had merely _died_. But, at the same time, it presented to him an opportunity.

"Would you…like to dance, then?" he asked her, his eyes on the floor as his blush deepened.

"Oh yes!" She sat her glass down and immediately took his hand to pull him after her onto the floor. "I _adore_ dancing."

With a slight grimace, Edmund uneasily fell into the steps. "Oh, er, so do I!"

She raised an eyebrow and giggled. "Edmund Pevensie, you are an _awful_ liar."

He blushed again.

"If you don't like dancing, then why did you ask?" she inquired with a playful smirk.

He blushed redder. "Er—Well, it's not _that_ bad…"

"Really now. Practice makes you no better than before. I can tell you're not enjoying yourself. But I'm curious, what is it about dancing that bothers you?"

"No, no!" he told her quickly. "I'm enjoying myself just fine. I like to dance, really I do. It's just…"

"Just what?"

He shifted his eyes around them nervously and then finally bent his head closer to her ear. "It's all these _people_. They're watching me."

He pulled back away from her and bit his lip as she just stared blankly. And then she started laughing again.

"Do you mean to—to tell me that you're a king who's _afraid _of a little attention?" she asked amidst her giggles.

"Sssh," he whispered, looking around them for any eavesdroppers. "Please, please don't go spreading that around. Peter used to made me speak at things like this _just_ to bug me."

"All right, all right," she assured. "Come on…I've got an idea."

"What're you—?" Ignoring his last comment, Jasmine immediately insisted upon pulling Edmund through the crowds. "Where are we going?" he managed to ask.

"You'll see," she replied, grinning. She continued to pull him through the crowds until they reached a pair of large, glass doors and stepped out of them.

"Why did you bring me out here?" he asked, looking around the small balcony.

"You said you didn't like all those people watching you," she said, gently pulling his wrist towards the edge that overlooked the castle grounds. "Besides, it's nice out here."

"It _is_ rather nice," he agreed, smiling.

"So…do you actually like dancing?"

"I told you I did," he replied, "I just don't like people _watching _me dance…"

"Well then, would you like to dance with me?" she asked, turning her head to give him a smile. She reached down and her hand curled around his. He raised an eyebrow at this and shot her a look before pulling her to him and resting his other hand on the small of her back.

"Why the sudden change?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Jasmine…"

"It's nothing. I just know that it wouldn't work anyway, so I wanted to just have a dance. Is that so wrong of me?"

He frowned and let his hands fall as he stepped away. "Why wouldn't it work?"

She looked away, somewhat guiltily, and muttered, "Nothing. Forget about it."

"_No_," he said, and his surprise at his own tone was echoed by Jasmine's wide-eyed reaction. "I want to know what you're talking about. Why haven't you ever given this a chance? Why are just so averse to the idea that somebody might actually want to be with you?"

"I'm fine," she pressed. "Can we—can we just dance and then go back inside? Please?"

"Tell me."

"Edmund—"

"Don't _Edmund_ me. I've asked and asked but I haven't gotten any answers thus far. And I want them. Now."

She looked up at him through round eyes and for a moment he felt guilty for making her look as vulnerable as she did. Her lips pulled taut, however, and then she started to walk off to the side, heading back towards the doors.

But he caught her wrist before she could it too far and spun her back to him until her arms stopped herself at his chest and her big eyes were just inches from his.

"I just want to know," he started quietly. "If there was any way in the world to make this work…would you try it?"

She stared up at him for a moment and then gave a small, watery grin. "If only it were that easy," she murmured.

And then she slipped out of his arms and went back into the ballroom, leaving him out there to stare perplexedly at the glass doors as if they were to blame.


	18. The Open Door

**Chapter Eighteen: The Open Door **

"Oh, just _tell_ her for crying out loud!"

"No. She obviously doesn't care anymore. I'm not going to make a bloody _idiot_ out of myself."

"Too late for that…"

"Lucy!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try to be more helpful. Have you considered a note?"

Edmund looked up from the book that he had been _attempting_ to read, but hadn't been able to for Lucy's persistent talking. She had claimed that she didn't see him leave the ballroom with the others the previous night and had somehow gotten him to tell her what had happened. Though it wasn't hard since he was in need of a good rant over such things and Lucy was the only person he (mostly) trusted with the information.

"A love note?" he asked, with a pained grimace. "Er—no, no. I don't think so, Lu…"

"_Humph_. Well, it's a lot better than sitting holed up in the library all day, at least," she retorted.

"I'm not 'holing myself up' anywhere," he replied, turning his eyes back on his book. "I'm trying to _read_."

"Oh, is that book an instruction manual on girls, then?"

"Lucy…"

"I was just wondering…"

"Well keep your _wonderings_ to yourself."

"You _do_ need one, though."

"Right now, I'm actually wanting nothing more than some peace and quiet," he replied, looking pointedly over at her.

"How can you ask me to leave you alone when you're slowly ruining your life? She won't wait around forever, you know."

"Wait for _what_?" he shot back, "For _me_ to do something? I've already tried, Lu!"

She blinked at him, as though there were some mundane truth that he wasn't seeing but _should_ be.

"Try again."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm in no mood for this right now." Edmund looked down at his book again and attempted to read the first few lines…again.

"Fine," she murmured calmly, after a few moments.

She didn't say anything else and for a second he wondered if she actually had left, so he looked up and saw her crossing the library, heading towards the doors.

_At least she's finally leaving me alone_, he thought as he turned back to his reading.

"Oh, Peter—Susan!"

_Fantastic. The whole family's decided to visit the library today_, he mused. _I've got to find a new hobby…in a secluded area… _

"Hey Ed, Lu, can we talk to you guys for a second?" Susan asked.

Edmund sighed and looked up and saw the other three all looking at _him_, waiting for _him_.

"I'm coming…" he murmured, setting his book aside on a small table as he eased himself out of the armchair and walked towards the doors where the others were congregated in a small circle. "What is it?"

"Aslan's decided to call for an assembly," Peter muttered.

"Why?" Lucy asked, peering up at his and Susan's faces. "What's going on?"

"Er—" Peter's eyes quickly flickered to Susan's so fast that, if Edmund had blinked, he wouldn't have caught it.

"Nothing," she covered smoothly. "It's probably just plans for the reconstruction of Cair Paravel. Caspian mentioned something about that yesterday."

"Oh," Lucy said, her face looking a little more downcast than it usually would have been. "All…all right, then. We'll be there in a short while."

"Er—and Ed?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"I—"

"Come on, Peter," Susan murmured hurriedly, placing a firm hand on her brother's arm and leading him back through the doorway before he could do anything more than shoot a quick look back at Edmund as he and Susan disappeared around the corner.

"… What was _that_ all about?" Edmund asked, looking down at Lucy. "Peter's acting a little strangely, don't you think?"

"Didn't you see their faces?" Lucy asked quietly.

"Yes, why?"

"Surely, you noticed something was wrong?"

"Not really. They said we've got an assembly to go to. What's wrong with that?"

"Oh…oh, Ed, I just get the _feeling_ that something bad is about to happen…"

"Like…?"

She looked up and stared at him as though he belonged in a mental institution. "Like us going _home_," she whispered.

"But—but…" Edmund looked at her wildly. Home? No! No, they couldn't—they just _couldn't_ go home yet!

"Why?" he asked. "We got to stay for _years_ last time!"

"This isn't like last time," she replied, gently. "They've got Caspian now…they don't _need_ us this time."

"I—I don't…understand… We can't…"

"We might have to," Lucy told him. "I just hope that I'm wrong…"

"And if we're not? Lu, what about _Jasmine_?"

She looked around for a moment, biting her lip as though thinking hard. Then, finally, she smiled and looked back up at him. "How does that note sound now?"

---

On the afternoon after the ball, Caspian came to call on Jasmine in her temporary quarters in the castle. When he entered, he looked slightly disheveled about something.

"What is it?" she asked, once she spotted his face.

"Aslan has just called for an assembly in town," he muttered.

Jasmine dropped her book. "N—_now_?"

He nodded. "Yes. We're expected there in just a few moments…"

"But—but, why _now_?" she asked. "Surely he can wait for…a—a day or two?"

Caspian looked almost liked he didn't know what to say to her. But then he reached forward and patted her shoulder reassuringly. "It'll be all right," he told her quietly. "I know you'll make the right choice…"

Jasmine quirked her eyebrows questioningly at him, but he apparently didn't notice because he slipped back through the doorway. "I'll see you in the main hall," he called back, sweeping down the hall.

Worriedly, Jasmine went to her partition and stripped off her day dress to slip into a more suitable gown for the assembly. Her hands trembled as she smoothed out the violet skirt and they fidgeted through her hair as she brushed it. Finally, she could find no more excuses and made her way down to the main hall, where she met with Caspian and the others.

During the whole time that passed as they all went into the town, she was sure that she could feel Edmund's gaze on her. But she never looked at him. How could she? She had pushed him away all this time and now she was going to have to willingly give him over to another world. She had no right to keep him to herself when Aslan had much more in store for Edmund.

The six of them arrived in town just as a large group of people was accumulating around a large, raised platform. Aslan already stood at the top, peering out at the six as they approached on their horses. Jasmine saw his amber eyes look at her and she immediately felt like an open book. The fact that he might know her thoughts made her feel incredibly ashamed for wanting to keep Edmund when Aslan clearly desired something different for him.

She averted her eyes from the Lion as the group all went up onto the platform. As soon as the crowd was hushed and quieted, Aslan began to speak. He talked to them all of redemption for past wrong doing, purity for the future of Narnia, and forgiveness among new friends. He allowed the Telmarines a chance to live in peace with the Narnians and he even offered a free start to any of those who wanted it.

Aslan blew upon a tree further down the platform from them and it twisted and re-shaped its limbs until it resembled an arched doorway.

"This doorway will take you to a place called Earth. It is here that your ancestors came from, and it is here that our Kings and Queens come from. Who will go?" he asked, looking out at the crowd with his calm, yet terrifyingly beautiful eyes.

The people were all silent, until…

"I will go. I will accept your offer."

Jasmine peered around Caspian and she saw General Glozelle stepping out from the crowd. And then, her own mother walked forward with the little brother that she had never met.

Aslan nodded to them and the pair walked onto the platform, towards the tree. Jasmine saw her mother look at her as she and the General passed by. Her eyes sent her a sad note of regret and Jasmine took the apology in it. She smiled back at her mother and was pleased to see that this turned the corners of her lips and she looked much happier than before.

The two went through the doorway in the tree and they instantly disappeared, instead of coming out from the other side. Murmurs and exclamations flitted through the crowd.

"How do we know he's not leading us to our deaths?" one skeptical Telmarine cried out.

"Sire, if I can be on an example, ten mice and I will go through with no delay!" Reepicheep declared valiantly. Jasmine smiled at the little mouse, almost giggling for his usual display of courage.

"No. We'll go."

She froze and all thoughts of giggling were gone. _No Peter…no, you don't mean that… No, please… _

"We will?"

Jasmine looked up when she heard Edmund's scattered voice. She looked eyes with him for a brief moment and she couldn't hide anything from him any longer. Just by the look of his face, she could tell that he now knew that she had known all along that this would happen. And she hadn't done a single thing about it…

"Our time's up, Ed," Peter said. "We've got to go home…"

"Will we ever come back?" Lucy asked, looking hopeful.

"You two will," Peter replied, looking at her and Edmund. "At least…" –here, he looked over at Aslan, as though for reassurance— "I think he means you two…"

Lucy's cheeks regained some of their bright pink and she flashed a quick grin at Jasmine. "Soon?" she inquired Aslan.

"I cannot say," he told her. "I will only tell you that you will return when Narnia needs its King and Queen again, young one."

Edmund looked over at her and Jasmine found herself slowly walking towards him as each of the Pevensies said their good-byes to Trumpkin, Reepicheep, and Caspian.

"I suppose you have to go now," she said quietly, when they met.

"You knew…" he said, looking down at his hands.

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I—I didn't know _how_…" She grimaced at the outright hurt in his frown and attempted a small smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't want this for us…"

"Do you think we'll ever see each other again?"

"I hope so," she replied.

Despite the hopeful smile that she gave him, Edmund did not look any more reassured as he pulled her closer into a tight embrace.

"I just wish we had a chance," he whispered. "Without all these battles and problems…I wish we could just give it a go and see where it takes us."

"I know," she replied, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. "I wish it were so. I could never tell you how much I would wish for that."

"As long as we know of our hearts and our feelings," he said. "I'll never let you go."

"I'll hold on," she replied with a small smile.

Jasmine could feel that the others were watching them now, waiting for Edmund.

"I have to go now," he said, loosening his arms from around her.

"I know." She clung to him for a brief moment before letting her arms fall from his waist.

Just before he let go, his hand brushed by hers and his fingers pushed a small note into her hand. She clasped it tightly.

"Read it when I'm gone," he whispered.

She just nodded—her throat felt too knotted to consider the idea of talking at this point—and clutched him closer to her for just a few moments more before finally relinquishing her hold.

He stared at her with a small, saddened smile and then turned away as he went in the direction of the enchanted tree. Her hand clung to his until it slipped away and then, with one last step, he had gone.

Jasmine let her hand hang nimbly in the air for a moment before it fell back to her side and her heart welled with the tears that she suppressed from her eyes.

"Daughter?"

Startled, she snapped her head up and saw Aslan watching her—saw _everybody_ watching her—and her cheeks blushed.

"Yes?" she asked, feeling very small in his presence, especially after Aslan, Caspian, and the entire crowd had just witnessed something incredibly personal.

"It is not the end," he told her warmly. "The door shall not close until it is no longer needed."

Jasmine narrowed her eyes questioningly and her gaze lingered on the Lion while awaiting an elaboration. But he did not speak in response. He turned his head to look back over at the tree through which Edmund had just departed. She did not follow his line of sight, fearing that her tears may break through if she looked and did not see Edmund standing there, waiting for her.

Finally, Aslan said to her, "The pathway is still open and clear for _you_, my Daughter. You may go as you wish."

Her mouth fell open. Was he—was Aslan—giving her the chance to go _with_ them?

"My lord," she said, keeping her eyes on the ground, "I am afraid that I don't quite understand. What are you—?"

"You understand my words perfectly, child," Aslan interjected. "I am allowing you the choice to go with the Pevensie children, or remain here in Narnia's new age."

Jasmine finally looked up and she turned her eyes on Caspian. Strangely, he wore a smile. She had expected him to not see Aslan's words with good feeling, as they had been one another's best friends through both their lives. He caught her watching him and inclined his head towards the tree, as if to say, 'Go on; you know you want to.'

And she did. She wanted it more than anything else. But, at the same time, she was almost afraid to have it. She was leaving her entire _world_ for something that might not work out so well in the end.

And yet…

Taking a tentative step forward, Jasmine locked eyes with the Lion. "It is my choice?" she asked, softly.

"Of course."

She took another look at the tree as though it were her only lifeline.

_'If there was any way in the world to make this work…would you try it?'_

"What shall your answer be?" Aslan asked her. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight and Jasmine felt as though he weren't only asking of her choice to go through the door.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and looked resolutely at the Lion after her eyes quickly flickered towards the tree.

"Yes," she breathed, and then with another deep breath, Jasmine stepped forward and walked through the doorway in the tree.


	19. I'll Never Let You Go

**Chapter Nineteen: I'll Never Let You Go**

Edmund clutched the strap on his bag tightly around his shoulder and jerked forward with the train as it shuddered along. Lucy and Susan were both caught up in a conversation that he took no care to listen to, and Peter was standing silently by his side.

Not long after the train had begun to move and the shock from their return had worn off, however, Peter tapped Edmund's shoulder.

"What?" he asked, a little moodily.

"Look over there," Peter replied, pointing down the aisle of the train.

Edmund looked up—only to humor Peter, if anything, as he wasn't in a nice mood at the time—and caught sight of what Peter was pointing at. It was a girl, standing a little ways from the two brothers and clutching onto a school bag slung on her shoulder as she held onto the train with her other hand.

_Is this his idea of a joke? Is he really trying to replace her or something…? _

"What about it?" he asked.

"Doesn't she look familiar?" Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

Edmund looked back; the only thing he noticed was that she had long, dark hair and wore a school uniform just like Susan and Lucy.

"Not really…"

"Look more _closely_, Ed," he hissed.

"What am I looking for?" he mumbled grumpily back, but nevertheless threw his gaze back on the girl.

He was just about to give up, as he hadn't seen anything extraordinary, when she turned around and looked at him. When he saw that she had caught him staring, he blushed and quickly averted his gaze. But he still noticed how very _familiar_ her face looked.

Edmund looked back at Peter and found him smirking.

"What?"

"I _told_you she was familiar. This is bloody brilliant—the best thing Aslan could have done!"

"It's not her, Pete. Don't you think she would have recognized me?"

"You never know," he countered, "Aslan could have wiped her memory or something."

"Well then that would just make things even worse. I'm going to just forget all about this."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I know you too well for that; you'll _never_ forget, Ed."

"Well I can try," Edmund replied. "There's no way that she's the same girl. No way at all…"

"Whatever you say…" Peter said, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

Edmund scowled at him.

"Come on, Ed, just do it!"

"_No_. I already told you that she's not the same person. I'm not going to go make a fool out of myself just to prove that to you. Why don't _you_ talk to her?"

"Because I'm not the guy that she'll want to see," Peter answered slyly. "She never kissed _me_."

Edmund's cheeks reddened and he swatted Peter on the arm. "Shut up."

Peter chuckled. "I still think you should talk to her. Just ask her name, anything."

Edmund rolled his eyes and wearily looked out the window. They were nearing the next station and Peter had been badgering him for the last ten minutes about talking to the girl who, he quietly admitted to himself, had a _tiny_ resemblance to Jasmine.

Okay…maybe a big resemblance… But he still didn't want to talk to her. She obviously wasn't the same girl or he was sure she would have recognized him (the possibility that she was the same girl and still didn't recognize him made his stomach feel a bit queasy, so he tried not to dwell on that).

Either way, there was no way that he was going to talk to some random girl just because Peter wanted him to. Never; not even a chance of that.

Finally, the train pulled into the station and Edmund was glad that Peter had refrained from his relentless whisperings for the last five minutes. He followed the crowd of people over to the door and led his siblings out.

"That wasn't too bad of a ride," Lucy said, stretching out her arms and yawning. "Rather relaxing, I'd say."

"Yes, but I did forget about drinking all that tea before we left," Susan said, looking over to the bathrooms. "If you all don't mind, I think I'll excuse myself…"

"I'll come with you," Lucy offered.

The two girls went over to the loo and left Edmund alone with Peter. They milled around the station for a bit among the other students walking everywhere and it seemed that Peter had given up the subject of the Jasmine look-alike, for which Edmund was grateful.

Well, he was grateful until Peter shoved him to the side for some reason and he accidentally knocked into someone else. Edmund looked over at them and his eyebrows rose when he saw the girl.

_Of course, why am I surprised? Peter just can't let anything go easily…_

"Sorry about that," he spluttered to her.

"It's all right," she assured, and he couldn't help but notice how even their voices were so similar.

The girl went down on her knees and began to pick up things from the ground; apparently her bag had fallen when Edmund had knocked into her and it had strewn her belongings along the ground.

"Here, let me help you," he offered quickly, stooping down to pick up several books that were scattered around. The girl gave her consent and then looked down to retrieve her things. Edmund peered over her shoulder and narrowed his eyes at Peter (who he noticed, angrily, was laughing). When he saw that Edmund had spotted him, he winked and gave a nod in the direction of the girl, then left.

He inwardly groaned. This was fantastic…absolutely wonderful…

"Sorry, again," he said as the two of them rose to their feet with their arms laden with her things.

"Don't worry about it," she replied, grinning at him, "It was just an accident."

"Right," he replied nervously, handing off her things when she held her hands out for them, "I'll—er—just be going, then…"

"Oh, wait," she said. She finished stuffing her belongings into her bag, did the clasp, and then looked back up at him with a smile. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Er, I'm Edmund," he replied, blushing as his thoughts insisted upon swirling around the idea of how pretty her smile was.

"I'm Jasmine," she replied, holding her hand out for him to shake.

His hand eased forward to shake hers, but his face froze in a temporary look of surprise with slightly raised brows.

When Jasmine released his hand, he subtly shook his head. _Come on Ed, it's just a name. Just a coincidence… She _still_ doesn't remember you; just forget about it…_

"Well, thank you for your help," she said with a nod of her head.

Unable to find any words to say to her, Edmund just nodded in reply and lifted his hand in a quick wave. She waved back, smiling, and then turned to enter the crowd again.

As soon as her back was to him, his face fell and his eyes widened at the ground. He had just made such an idiot of himself. Not that he had ever been popular with girls before, but it was always nice to be able to have a simple conversation without—oh? What's that?

"Hey…I think you dropped this…"

Edmund suddenly spotted a small piece of folded parchment on the ground and he crouched on his knees to pick it up. He held it in front of his face and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw his own handwriting on it:

_For Jasmine_…

His lips parted in a wordless surprise and it took a full moment for his brain to finally kick in. He stood up, but found nobody standing there anymore, so he looked ahead of him, towards the crowd, and finally spotted the girl again.

A split second decision spurred him to raise his free hand above the crowd and call out, "Wait, Jasmine!" Half the crowd turned their heads to see who was shouting and why, but they all looked away again when they found it was only Edmund attempting to get the attention of a girl.

However, Jasmine turned around again and stopped so that he could catch up to her again.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I think you drop—" he began, but stopped almost instantly. Of course he couldn't just give it back to her! She would think he was utterly insane! It was lucky she still had it all; there was no question that she didn't retain any memory from before.

It was merely a second chance for them, given by Aslan, he realized. Which meant that he didn't need the letter anymore…she would know it's contents in time, if all went as well as Edmund hoped…

"Er—I was just wondering if you would like some company," he asked, nervously. "Perhaps a cup of…tea…or two…?"

The girl looked back at him in surprise for a moment and then her face split into a grin again. "I would really like that."

He smiled back, hardly able to contain the blush that rose to his cheeks, but at the same time not caring about it, and followed her as she began to lead him along.

The note made itself known when Edmund looked back down at his hands and he stared at it for just a moment before smiling to himself and tossing it over his shoulder.

She would know in time…

Peter watched Edmund go with Jasmine with a smug smile. He knew he had been right to intervene…

But he did wonder what it was that Edmund had picked up off the ground; what had pushed him to finally believe?

Luckily for him, his questions were answered when Edmund tossed a small piece of parchment behind his back. Peter eyed it and then walked through the crowd to pick it up.

He began to unfold it, but stopped when he recognized Edmund's handwriting along the top fold: _For Jasmine_.

He hesitated, unsure of whether he wanted to read it or not, as it _was_ something rather private, he was sure.

But before he could make any decision, a gust of wind blew through one of the open windows of the station and the letter was swept from Peter's hands. He looked up and watched as the letter floated above the people of the station, most of them unknown to its presence, until it went through one of the large windows and Peter saw it no more.

And, for some reason, he felt a little better that it was away from his prying eyes.

Besides, it didn't take a genius to figure out what the note must have said.

**The End.**

_Dear Jasmine,_

_I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but here goes… _

_When I first saw you, I thought that you would be just like all the other girls. I thought that all you cared about was frilly dresses, gaudy jewelry, and flouncing around like some sort of rich princess. _

_Then I learned that you're not like that. There was something more there that I just wasn't seeing. You looked so lost and alone that I had to do something. I wanted to protect you. _

_But you ended up protecting me when you took that arrow, just for me. I still never figured out why. You always seemed so afraid of me. It didn't make sense that you would put your life on the line if you didn't care about me in some way. _

_And that was the first time that I ever had hope to keep you as something more than just a friend to me. It seems unbelievable, to care for somebody after such a short time together. It's inconceivable for someone to want to do everything they can for that person, when they've known them for a handful of days. It is utterly unreal for anybody to love anyone after they've known them for as long as I've known you. _

_That's what I thought, but now I know that it's not unbelievable. It's not inconceivable. And it's not unreal. _

_It's believable because I know it's there; I can feel it. It's conceivable, because it's been on my mind ever since I met you. And it's real, I know it is, because…_

_Well, because I love you, Jasmine. _

_I love you and I'll never let you go. Even when I'm in England and you're in Narnia…I'll always keep you in my heart, no matter how hokey that sounds. I'll keep you forever, Jasmine, I promise. _

_Love,_

_Ed. _

_P.S. You're still a princess, to me._

* * *

**A/N: **Uhmm, I hope I did that all right, because that's the end. Whew! It feels nice to be able to say that this story is _finished_, after three months! It feels like a lot longer! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading this. I appreciate _every single person _out there who read, reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited this story. It means a lot to me that you guys that the time, so thanks very much, all of you! :)


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